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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


GIFT  OF 

Estate  of 
David  Prescott  Barrows 


.THOMSON  AND  POLLOK 


CONTAINING   THE 


SEASONS, 

BY  JAMES  THOMSON, 


AND   THE 


COURSE    OF    TIME, 


BY  ROBERT  POLLOK,  A.M. 


A     NEW      EDITION 


BOSTON: 
PHILLIPS,    SAMPSON,    AND   COMPANY. 

1858. 


n 


e  /e» 


>"» 


o 


GIFT 


SPRING. 


The  subject  proposed.  Inscribed  to  the  Countess  of  Hertford.  The 
Season  is  described  as  it  affects  the  various  parts  of  Natuie, 
ascending  Irom  the  lower  to  tho  h'gher;  with  digressions  ;iri<i;ig 
from  the  subject.  Its  influence  on  inanimate  Matt -r,  on  Vegeta 
ble!,  on  bruto  Animals,  and  last  on  Man;  concluding  witii  a  dis 
suasive  from  the  wild  and  irregular  passion  of  Love,  opposed  in 
that  of  a  pure  and  happy  kind. 


COME,  gentle  SPRING,  ethereal  Mildness,  come, 
And  from  the  bosom  of  yon  dropping  cloud, 
While  music  wakes  around,  veil'd  in  a  shower 
Of  shadowing  roses,  on  our  plains  descend. 

O  Hertford,  fitted  or  to  shine  in  courts  5 

With  unaffected  grace,  or  walk  the  plain 
With  innocence  and  meditation  join'd 
In  soft  assemblage,  listen  to  my  song, 
Which  thy  own  Season  paints  ;  when  Nature  all 
Is  blooming  and  benevolent,  like  thee.  10 

And  see  where  surly  WINTER  passes  off, 
Far  to  the  north,  and  calls  his  ruffian  blasts : 
His  blasts  obey,  and  quit  the  howling  hill, 
The  shatter'd  forest,  and  the  ravaged  vale  ; 
While  softer  gales  succeed,  at  whose  kind  touch,      15 
Dissolving  snows  in  livid  torrents  lost, 
The  mountains  lift  their  green  heads  to  the  sky 

As  yet  the  trembling  year  is  unconfirm'd, 
And  Winter  oft  at  eve  resumes  the  breeze, 
Chills  the  pale  morn,  and  bids  his  driving  sleeti       90 
Deform  the  day  delightless :  so  that  scarce 
The  bittern  knows  his  time,  with  bill  ingulf  d, 
To  shake  the  sounding  marsh  ;  or  from  the  shore 
The  plovers  when  to  scatter  o'er  the  heath, 
And  sing  their  wild  notes  to  the  listening  waste.      25 


131 


4  SPRING. 

At  last  from  Aries  rolls  the  bounteous  sun, 
And  the  bright  Bull  receives  him.     Then  no  more 
The'  expansive  atmosphere  is  cramp'd  with  cold  : 
But,  full  of  life  and  vivifying  soul, 
Lifts  the  light  clouds  sublime,  and  spreads  them  thin, 
Fleecy,  and  white  o'er  all  surrounding  heaven.          31 

Forth  fly  the  tepid  airs  ;  and  unconfined, 
Unbinding  earth,  the  moving  softness  strays. 
Joyous,  the'  impatient  husbandman  perceives 
Relenting  Nature,  and  his  lusty  steers  35 

Drives  from  their  stalls,  to  where  the  well  used  plough 
Lies  in  the  furrow,  loosen'd  from  the  frost. 
There  unrefusirig,  to  the  harness'd  yoke, 
They  lend  their  shoulder,  and  begin  their  toil, 
Cheer'd  by  the  simple  song  and  soaring  lark.  40 

Meanwhile  incumbent  o'er  the  shining  share 
The  master  leans,  removes  the'  obstructing  clay, 
Winds  the  whole  work,  and  sidelong  lays  the  glebe. 

While  thro'  the  neighbouring  fields  the  sower  stalks, 
With  measured  step  ;  aad  liberal  throws  the  grain  45 
Into  the  faithful  bosom  of  the  ground  : 
The  harrow  follows  harsh,  and  shuts  the  scene. 

Be  gracious,  Heaven  !  for  now  laborious  man 
Has  done  his  part.     Ye  fostering  breezes,  blow  ; 
Ye  softening  dews,  ye  tender  showers,  descend  !       50 
And  temper  all,  thou  world-reviving  sun, 
Into  the  perfect  year  !  Nor  ye  who  live 
In  luxury  and  ease,  in  pomp  and  pride, 
Think  these  lost  themes,  unworthy  of  your  ear  . 
Surjh  themes  as  these  the  rural  Maro  sung  56 

To  wjdp-impfrifll  P^mo   i^  \]^  fitj]  hftiglit  ^   G^f**-*-"' 
Of  elegance  and  taste,  by  Greece  refined. 
In  ancient  times,  the  sacred  plough  employ'd 
The  kings,  and  awful  fathers  of  mankind  • 
And  some,  with  whom  compared  your  insect  tribes  60 
Are  but  the  beings  of  a  summer's  day, 
Have  held  the  scale  of  empire,  ruled  tre  storm 
Of  mighty  war ;  then,  with  unwearied  hand 


SPRING.  5 

Disdaining  little  delicacies,  seized 

The  plough,  and  greatly  independent  lived.  05 

Ye  generous  Britons,  venerate  the  plough  ! 
And  o'er  your  hills  and  long  withdrawing  vales 
Let  Autumn  spread  his  treasures  to  the  suu, 
Luxuriant  and  unbounded  :  as  the  sea, 
Far  through  his  azure  turbulent  domain,  70 

Your  empire  owns,  and  from  a  thousand  shores 
Wafts  all  the  pomp  of  life  into  your  ports  j 
So  with  superior  boon  may  your  rich  soil, 
Exuberant,  Nature's  better  blessings  pour 
O'er  every  land,  the  naked  nations  clothe,  75 

And  be  the'  exhaustless  granary  of  a  world  ! 

Nor  only  through  the  lenient  air  this  change, 
Delicious,  breathes  ;  the  penetrative  sun, 
His  force  deep  darting  to  the  dark  retreat 
Of  vegetation,  sets  the  steaming  Power  80 

At  large,  to  wander  o'er  the  verdant  earth, 
In  various  hues  ;  but  chiefly  thee,  gay  green ! 
Thou  smiling  Nature's  universal  robe  ! 
United  light  and  shade  !  where  the  sight  dwells 
With  glowing  strength  and  ever  new  delight.  86 

From  the  moist  meadow  to  the  wither'd  hill, 
Led  by  the  breeze,  the  vivid  verdure  runs, 
And  swells  and  deepens  to  the  cherish'd  eye. 
The  hawthorn  whitens  ;  and  the  juicy  groves 
Put  forth  their  buds,  unfolding  by  degrees,  'JO 

Till  the  whole  leafy  forest  stands  display'd, 
In  full  luxuriance,  to  the  sighing  gales  : 
Where  the  deer  rustle  through  the  twining  brake, 
And  the  birds  sing  conccal'd.     At  once  array'd 
In  all  the  colours  of  the  flushing  year,  !Ki 

By  Nature's  swift  and  secret  working  hand, 
TTSTgardUll  flotos,  and  falls  the  liberal  air 
With  lavish  fragrance  ;  while  the  promised  fruit 
Lies  yet  a  little  embryo,  unperceived, 
Within  its  crimson  folds.     Now  from  the  town,       100 
Buried  in  smoke  and  sleep  and  noiti>'>ine  damps, 
1* 


6  SPRING. 

Oft  let  me  wander  o'er  the  dewy  fields, 

Whore  freshness  breathes,  and  dash  the  trembling  drops 

From  the  bent  bush,  as  through  the  verdant  maze 

Of  sweetbriar  hedges  I  pursue  my  walk  ;  105 

Or  taste  the  smell  of  dairy  ;  or  ascend 

Some  eminence,  Augusta,sin  thy  plains, 

And  see  the  country,  far  diffused  around, 

One  boundless  blush,  one  white-empurpled  shower 

Of  mingled  blossoms;  where  the  raptured  eye         110 

Hurries  from  joy  to  joy,  and,  hid  beneath 

The  fair  profusion,  yellow  Autumn  spies. 

If,  brush'd  from  Russian  wilds,  a  cutting  gale 
Rise  not,  and  scatter  from  his  humid  wings 
The  clammy  mildew  ;  or,  dry  blowing,  breathe       115 
Untimely  frost ;  before  whose  balefufblast 
The  full  blown  Spring  through  all  her  fohage  shrinks 
Joyless  and  dead,  a  wide  dejected  waste. 
For  oft,  engender'd  by  the  hazy  north, 
Mj  rinds  on  myriads,  insect  armies  waft  120 

Keen  in  the  poison'd  breeze  ;  and  wasteful  eat, 
Through  buds  and  bark,  into  the  blacken'd  core, 
Their  eager  way.     A  feeble  race  !  yet  oft 
The  sacred  sons  of  vengeance  ;  on  whose  course 
Corrosive  Famine  waits,  and  kills  the  year.  125 

To  check  this  plague,  the  skilful  farmer  chaff 
And  blazing  straw  before  his  orchard  burns ; 
Till,  all  involved  in  smoke,  the  latent  foe 
From  every  cranny  suffocated  falls  : 
Or  scatters  o'er  the  blooms  the  pungent  dust  130 

Of  pepper,  fatal  to  the  frosty  tribe  : 
Or,  when  the'  envenom'd  leaf  begins  to  curl, 
With  sprinkled  water  drowns  them  in  their  nest  : 
Nor,  while  they  pick  them  up  with  busy  bill, 
The  little  trooping  birds  unwisely  scares.  135 

Be  patient,  swains  ;  these  cruel-seeming  winds 
Blow  not  in  vain.     Far  hence  they  keep  repress'd 
Those  deepening  clouds  on  clouds,  surcharged  with  rain, 
That  o'er  the  vast  Atlantic  hither  borne, 


SPRING.  7 

In  endless  train,  would  quench  the  summer  blaze,  140 
And,  cheerless,  drown  the  crude  unripen'd  year. 

The  north-east  spends  his  rage  ;  he  now  shut  up 
Within  his  iron  cave,  the'  effusive  south 
Warms  the  wide  air,  and  j'er  the  void  of  heaven 
Breathes  the  big  clouds  with  vernal  showers  distent. 
As  first  a  dusky  wreath  they  seem  to  rise,  1 1C 

Scarce  staining  ether  ;  but,  by  swift  degrees, 
In  heaps  on  heaps,  the  doubling  vapour  sails 
Along  the  loaded  sky,  and  mingling  deep 
Sits  on  the'  horizon  round  a  settled  gloom:  150 

Not  such  as  wintry  storms  on  mortals  shed, 
Oppressing  life  ;  but  lovely,  gentle,  kind, 
And  full  of  every  hope  and  every  joy, 
The  wish  of  Nature.     Gradual  sinks  the  breeze 
Into  a  perfect  calm  ;  that  not  a  breath  155 

Is  heard  to  quiver  through  the  closing  v/oods, 
Or  rustling  turn  the  many-twinkling  leaves 
Of  aspen  tall.     The'  uncurling  floods,  diffused 
In  glassy  breadth,  seem  through  delusive  lapse 
Forgetful  of  their  course.     'Tis  silence  all,  160 

And  pleasing  expectation.     Herds  and  flocks 
Drop  the  dry  sprig,  and  mute  imploring  eye 
The  falling  verdure.     Hush'd  in  short  suspense, 
The  plumy  people  streak  their  wings  with  oil, 
To  tthrovr  the  lucid  moisture  trickling  off:  105 

And  wait  the'  appioaching  sign  to  strike,  at  once, 
Into  the  general  choir.     Even  mountains,  vales, 
And  forests  seem  impatient  to  demand 
The  promised  sweetness.     Man  superior  walks 
Amid  the  glad  creation,  musing  praise,  170 

And  looking  lively  gratitude.     At  last, 
The  clouds  consign  their  treasures  to  the  fields ; 
And,  softly  shaking  on  the  dimpled  pool 
Prelusive  drops,  lot  all  their  moisture  flow, 
In  large  effusion,  o'er  the  freshpn'd  world.  175 

The  stealing  shower  is  scarce  to  patter  heard, 
By  such  as  wander  through  the  forest  walks, 


8  SPRING. 

Beneath  the'  umbrageous  multitude  of  leaves. 

But  who  can  hold  the  shade  while  Heaven  descends 

In  universal  bounty,  shedding  herbs  J&Q 

And  fruits  and  flowers  on  Nature's  ample  lap  «. 

Swift  Fancy  fired  anticipates  their  growth  ; 

And,  while  the  milky  nutriment  distils, 

Beholds  the  kindling  country  colour  round. 

Thus  all  day  long  the  full  distended  clouds  185 

Indulge  their  genial  stores,  and  well  shower'd  earth 
Is  deep  enrich'd  with  vegetable  life  ; 
Till,  in  the  western  sky,  the  downward  sun 
Looks  out,  effulgent,  from  amid  the  flush 
Of  broken  clouds,  gay-shifting  to  his  beam.  190 

The  rapid  radiance  instantaneous  strikes 
The'  illumined  mountain,  through  the  forest  streams, 
Shakes  on  the  floods,  and  in  a  yellow  mist, 
Far  smoking  o'er  the'  interminable  plain, 
In  twinkling  myriads  lights  the  dewy  gems.  195 

Moist,  bright,  and  green,  the  landscape  laughs  around 
Full  swell  the  woods  ;  their  very  music  wakes, 
Mix'd  in  wild  concert  wiU  the  warbling  brooks 
Increased,  the  distant  bleatings  of  the  hills, 
And  hollow  lows  responsive  from  the  vales,  200 

Whence  blending,  all  the  sweeten'd  zephyr  springs. 
Meantime,  refracted  from  yon  eastern  cloud, 
Bestriding  earth,  the  grand  ethereal  bow 
Shoots  up  immense  ;  and  every  hue  unfolds, 
In  fair  proportion  running  from  the  red  205 

To  where  the  violet  fades  into  the  sky. 
Here^awful  Newton,  the  dissolving  clouds 
Form,  fronting  on  the  sun,  thy  showery  prism  ; 
And  to  the  sage-instructed  eye  unfold 
The  various  twine  of  light,  by  thee  disclosed  210 

From  the  white  mingling  maze.     Not  so  the  boy  : 
He  wondering  views  the  bright  enchantment  bend. 
Delightful,  o'er  the  radiant  fields,  and  runs 
To  catch  the  falling  glory  ;  bu-t  amazed 
Beholds  the'  amusive  arch  before  him  fly,  215 


SPRING  9 

Then  vanish  quite  away.     Still  night  succeeds, 
A  soften'd  shade,  and  saturated  earth 
Awaits  the  morning  beam,  to  give  to  light, 
Raised  through  ten  thousand  different  plastic  tubes. 
The  balmy  treasures  of  the  former  day.  220 

Then  spring  the  living  herbs,  profusely  wild, 
O'er  all  the  deep-green  earth,  beyond  the  power 
Of  botanists  to  number  up  their  tribes  : 
Whether  he  steals  along  the  lonely  dale, 
In  silent  search  ;  or  through  the  forest,  rank  22T> 

With  what  the  dull  incurious  weeds  account, 
Bursts  his  blind  way  ;  or  climbs  the  mountain  rock, 
Fired  by  the  nodding  verdure  of  its  brow. 
With  such  a  liberal  hand  has  Nature  flung 
Their  seeds  abroad,  blown  them  about  in  winds,      230 
Innumerous  mix'd  them  with  th<?  nursing  mould, 
The  moistening  current,  and  prolific  rain. 

But  who  their  virtues  can  declare  ?  who  pierce, 
With  vision  pure,  into  these  secret  stores 
Of  health  and  life  and  joy  ?  the  food  of  Man,  235 

While  yet  ho  lived  in  innocence,  and  told 
A  length  of  golden  years  ;  unflesh'd  in  blood, 
A  stranger  to  the  savage  arts  of  life, 
Death,  rapine,  carnage,  surfeit,  and  disease  , 
The  lord,  and  not  the  tyrant,  of  the  world.  2-10 

The  first  fresh  dawn  then  waked  the  gladden'd  raco 
Of  uncorrupted  Man,  nor  blush'd  to  see 
The  sluggard  sleep  beneath  its  sacred  beam  j 
For  their  light  slumbers  gently  fumed  away ; 
And  up  they  rose  as  vigorous  as  the  sun,  2<«£ 

Or  to  the  culture  of  the  willing  glebe 
Or  to  the  cheerful  tendance  of  the  flock  : 
Meantime  the  song  went  round  ;  and  dance  and  sport, 
Wisdom  and  friendly  talk,  successive,  stole 
Their  hours  away  :  while  in  the  rosy  vale  250 

Lo^e  breathed  his  infant  sighs,  from  anguish  free, 
And  full  replete  with  bliss  ;  save  the  sweet  pain, 
That,  inly  thrilling,  but  exalts  it  more 


10  SPRING. 

Nor  yet  injurioas  act,  nor  surly  deed, 
Was  known  among  those  happy  sons  of  heaven  ;    255 
For  reason  and  benevolence  were  law. 
Harmonious  Nature  too  look'd  smiling  on. 
Clear  shone  the  skies,  cool'd  with  eternal  gales, 
And  balmy  spirit  all.     The  youthful  sun 
Shot,  his  best  rays,  and  still  the  gracious  clouds       260 
Dropp'd  fatness  down  ;  as  o'er  the  swelling  mead, 
The  herds  and  flocks,  commixing,  play'd  secure. 
This  when,  emergent  from  the  gloomy  wood, 
The  glaring  lion  saw,  his  horrid  heart 
Was  rr.eeken'd,  and  he  join'd  his  sullen  joy  265 

For  music  held  the  whole  in  perfect  peace  : 
Soft  sigh'd  the  flute  ;  the  tender  voice  was  heard, 
Warbling  t /ve  varied  heart ;  the  woodlands  round 
Applied  their  choir  ;  and  winds  and  waters  flow'd 
In  consonance.     Such  were  those  prime  of  days.    270 
Buijnow  those  white  uublemish'd  manners,  whence 
The  fiJbEnn  fHlBlB  tuuk  thcii  guideii  HJU.~~~ — 
Arelound  no  more  amid  these  iron  times, 
These  dregs  of  life  !  now  the  distcmper'd  mind 
Has  lost  thatrtoneord  of  harmonious  powers,  275 

Which  forms  the  soul  of  happiness  ;  and  all 
Is  "off  ffie~po1se-wttn1n  :  the  passions  all 
Have  burst  their  bounds  ;  and  reason,  half  extinct  . 
Or  impotent,  or  else  approving,  sees 
The  foul  disorder.     Senseless,  and  deform'd,  280 

Convulsive  angcx  storms  at  largo  ;  or,  pale 
And  silent,  settles  into  fell  revenge. 
Base  envy  withers  at  another's  joy, 
And  hates  that  excellence  it  cannot  reach 
Desponding  fear,  of  feeble  fancies  full,  285 

Weak  and  unmanly,  loosens  evr  ry  power 
E'en  love  itself  is  bitterness  of  soi 

ensive  anguish  pming^at  the  heart ; 
Or,  sunk  to  sordid  interest,  feels  no  more 
That  noble  wish  that  never  cloy'd  desire,  890 

Which,  selfish  joy  disdaining,  seeks  alone 


SPRING.  11 

To  bless  the  dearer  object  of  its  flame. 
Hope  gickens  with  extravagance  ;  and  .grief,^ 
ORifirTmpSClent,  into  madness  twella ', 
Or  in  dead  silence  wastes  the  weeping  hours.          21)5 
These,  and  a  thousand  mix'd  emotions  more, 
From  ever  changing  views  of  good  and  ill 
Form'd  infinitely  various,  vex  the  mind 
With  endless  storm  ;  whence,  deeply  rankling   grows 
The  partial  thought,  a  listless  unconcern,  300 

Cold,  and  averting  from  our  neighbour's  good ; 
Then  dark  disgust,  and  hatred,  winding  wiles, 
Coward  deceit,  and  ruffian  violence  • 
At  last,  extinct  each  social  feeling,  fell 
Aad  joyless  inhumanity  pervades  305 

And  petrifies  the  heart.    JJJature  disturb'd 
Is  deem'd,  vindictive,  to  have"~ellaiii»ed  llWcourse. 

iience,  in  old" frisky  time,  a  deluge  came: 
When  the  deep-cleft  disparting  orb,  that  arch'd 
The  central  waters  round,  impetuous  rush'd,  310 

With  universal  burst,  into  the  gulf, 
And  o'er  the  high-piled  hills  of  fractured  earth 
Wide  dash'd  the  waves,  in  undulation  vast ; 
Till,  from  the  centre  to  the  streaming  clouds, 
A  shoreless  ocean  tumbled  round  the  globe.  315 

The  Seasons  since  have,  with  severer  sway, 
Oppress'd  a  broken  world:  the  Winter  keen 
Shook  forth  his  waste  of  snows  :  and  Summer  shot 
His  pestilential  heats.     Great  Spring,  before, 
Groen'd  all  the  year;  and  fruits  and  blossoms  blush 'd, 
In  social  sweetness,  on  the  selfsame  bough. 
Pure  w&s  the  temperate  air  ;  an  even  calm 
Perpetual  reign'd,  save  what  the  zephyrs  bland 
Breathed  o'er  the  blue  expanse  :  for  then  nor  storms 
Were  taught  to  blow  nor  hurricanes  to  rage  ;          325 
Sound  slept  the  waters ;  no  sulphureous  glooms 
Swell'd  in  the  sky,  and  sent  the  lightning  forth  ; 
While  sickly  damps,  and  cold  autumnal  fogs, 
Hung  not,  relaxing,  on  th«  springs  of  life 


12  SPRING. 

But  now,  of  turbid  elements  the  sport,  330 

From  clear  to  cloudy  toss'd,  from  hot  to  cold, 

And  ary  to  moist,  with  inward-eating  change, 

Our  drooping  days  are  dwindled  down  to  nought, 

Their  period  finish 'd  ere  'tis  well  begun. 

And  ycl  the  wholesome  herb  neglected  dies ;       335 
Though  with  the  pure  exhilarating  soul 
Of  nutriment  and  health  and  vital  powers, 
Beyond  the  search  of  art,  'tis  copious  bless'd. 
For,  with  hot  ravine  fired,  enoanguined  Man 
Is  now  become  the  lion  of  the  plain,  340 

And  worse.     The  wolf,  who  from  the  nightly  fold 
Fierce  drags  the  bleating  prey,  ne'er  drunk  her  milk, 
Nor  wore  her  warming  fleece  :  nor  has  the  steer, 
At  whose  strong  chest  the  deadly  tiger  hangs, 
E'er  plough 'd  for  him.     They  too  are  temper'd  high, 
With  hunger  stung  and  wild  necessity,  34(i 

N'r  lodges  pity  in  their  shaggy  breast 
But  Man,  whom  Nature  form'd  of  milder  clay, 
Vv*itli  every  kind^motiomn  hia  4*cajt»__l' 
And  taught  alone. to  weep  ;  -while  from  her  lap       350 
She  pour?  ten  thousand  delicacies,  herbs, 
And  fruits,  as  numerous  as  the  drops  of  rain 
Or  beams  that  gave  tnem  birth  :  shall  he,  fair  form  !. 
Who  wears  sweet  sinuus,  and  looks  erect  on  heaven, 
E'er  stoop  to  mingle  with  the  prowling  herd,  3"io 

And  dip  his  tongue  in  gore  ?  the  beast  of  prey, 
Blood-stain'd,  deserves  to  bleed  ;  but  you,  ye  flocks, 
What  have  you  done  ;  ye  peaceful  people,  what, 
To  merit  death  ?  you,  who  have  given  us  milk 
In  luscious  streams,  and  lent  us  your  own  coat        3(10 
Against  the  Winter's  cold  ?  and  the  plain  ox, 
That  harmless,  honest,  guileless  animal, 
In  what  has  he  offended  f  he,  whose  toil. 
Patient,  and  ever  ready,  clothes  the  land 
With  all  the  pomp  of  harvest ;  shall  he  bleed,          365 
And  struggling  £froan  beneath  the  cruel  hands 
Even  of  the  clown  he  feeds  ?  and  that,  perhaps, 


SPRING.  13 

To  swell  the  riot  of  the'  autumnal  feast, 
Won  by  his  labour  ?  thus  the  feeling  heart 
Would  tenderly  suggest  :  but  ' 
1"  this  late 


. 

LighTon  the  numbers  of  the  Samian  sage. 
High  Heaven  forbids  the  bold  presumptuous  strain, 
Whose  wisest  will  has  fix'd  us  in  a  state 
That  must  not  yet  to  pure  perfection  rise.  375 

Now  when  the  first  foul  torrent  of  the  brooks, 
Swell'd  with  the  vernal  rains,  is  ebb'd  away, 
And,  whitening,  down  their  mossy-tinctured  stream 
Descends  the  billowy  foam  :  now  is  the  time, 
Wu^e  yet  the  dark-brown  water  aids  the  guile,      380 
To  tempt  the  trout.     The  well  dissembled  flv, 
The  rod  fine-tapeiing  with  elastic  spring, 
Snatch'd  from  the  hoary  steed  the  floating  line, 
And  all  thy  slender  watery  stores  prepare. 
But  let  not  on  thy  houk  the  tortured  worm  385 

Convulsive  twist  in  agonizing  folds  ; 
Which,  by  rapacious  hunger  swallow'd  deep, 
Gives,  as  you  tear  it  from  the  bleeding  breast 
Of  the  weak,  helpless,  uncomplaining  wretch, 
Harsh  pain  and  horror  to  the  tender  hand.  390 

^,Whpn  Jiirith  his  lively  ray  the  pot.ftnt  sun 
Has  pierced  the  streams,  and  roused  the  firing  race, 
Then,  issuing  cheerful,  to  thy  sport  repair  ; 
Chief  should  the  western  breezes  cur]'ag  play, 
And  light  o'er  ether  bear  the  shadowy  clouds.'        30*5 
High  to  their  fount,  this  day,  amid  the  hills, 
And  woodlands  warbling  round,  trace  up  the  brooks  , 
The  next,  pursue  their  rocky-channel'd  maze 
Down  to  the  river,  in  whose  ample  wave 
Tiicir  little  naiads  love  to  sport  at  large.  400 

Just  in  the  dubious  point,  where  with  the  pool 
Is  mix'd  the  trembling  stream,  or  where  it  boils 
Around  the  stone,  or  from  the  hallow'd  bank 
Reverted  plays  in  undulating  flow, 
yrnere  throw,  nice  judging,  thp  delusive  fly  ;  405 


14  SPRING. 

And,  as  you  lead  it  round  in  artful  curve, 
With  eye  attentive  mark  the  springing  game. 
Straight  as  above  the  surface  of  the  flood 
They  wanton  rise,  or  urged  by  hunger  leap, 
Then  fix,  witn  gentle  twitch,  the  barbed  hook :       410 
Some  lightly  tossing  to  the  grassy  bank, 
And  to  the  shelving  shore  slow  dragging  some, 
With  various  hand  proportion'd  to  their  torce. 
If  yet  too  young,  and  easily  deceived, 
A  worthless  prey  scarce  bends  your  pliant  rod,        415 
Him,  piteous  of  his  youth  and  the  short  space 
He  has  enjoy'd  the  vital  light  of  heaven, 
Soft  disengage,  and  back  into  the  stream 
The  speckled  captive  throw.     But  should  you  lure 
From  his  dark  haunt,  beneath  the  tangled  roots       420 
Of  pendent  trees,  the  monarch  of  the  brook, 
.Behoves  you  then  to  ply  your  finest  art. 
Long  time  he,  following  cautious,  scans  the  fly  ; 
And  oft  attempts  to  seize  it,  but  as  oft 
The  dimpled  water  speaks  his  jealous  fear.  425 

At  last,  while  haply  o'er  the  shaded  sun 
Passes  a  cloud,  he  desperate  takes  the  death, 
With  sullen  plunge.     At  once  he  darts  along 
Deep-struck,  and  runs  out  all  the  lengthen'd  line  : 
Then  seeks  the  furthest  ooze,  the  sheltering  weed,  430 
The  cavern'd  bank,  his  old  secure  abode  ; 
And  flies  aloft,  and  flounces  round  the  pocl, 
Indignant  of  the  guile.     With  yielding  hand, 
That  feels  him  still,  yet  to  his  furious  course 
Gives  way,  you,  now  retiring,  following  now  435 

Across  the  stream,  exhaust  his  idle  rage  : 
Till,  floating  broad  upon  his  breathless  side, 
And  to  his  fate  abandon'd,  to  the  shore 
You  gaily  drag  your  unresisting  prize.  439 

Thus  pass  the  temperate  hours  ;  but  when  the  «ur. 
Shakes  from  his  noonday  throne  the  scattering  clouds, 
Even  shooting  listless  languor  through  the  deeps  ; 
Then  seek  the  bank  where  flowering  elders  crowd, 


SPRING.  15 

Where  scatter'd  wild  the  lily  of  the  vale 
Its  balmy  essence  breathes,  where  cowslips  hang    445 
The  dewy  head,  where  purple  violets  lurk, 
With  all  theJbiwJ^Mjhildren  of  the  shade  : 
Or  lie  reclined  beneatli"yon  spreading  ash, 
Hung  o'er  the  steep  ;  whence,  borne  on  liquid  wing, 
The  sounding  culver  shoots  ;  or  where  the  hawk,  450 
High  in  the  beetling  cliff,  his  eyry  builds. 
There  let  the  classic  page  thy  fancy  lead 
Through  rural  scenes ;  such  as  the  Mantuan  swain 
Paints  in  the  matchless  harmony  of  song, 
Or  catch  thyself  the  landscape,  gliding  s'.vift  455 

Athwart  imagination's  vivid  eye  : 
Or  by  the  vocal  woods  and  waters  lull'd, 
And  lost  in  lonely  musing,  in  the  dream, 
Confused,  of  careless  solitude,  where  mix 
Ten  thousand  wandering  images  cf  things,  460 

Sooth  every  gust  of  passion  into  peace  ; 
All  but  the  swellings  of  the  soften'd  heart, 
That  weaken,  not  disturb,  the  tranquil  mind. 

Behold  yon  breathing  prospect  bids  the  Muse 
Throw  all  her  beauty  forth.     But  who  can^  paint     465 
Lifee-Natufe  ?  Can  imagination  boast, 
Amid  its  gay  creation,  hues  like  hers  ? 
Or  can  it  mix  them  with  that  matchless  skilj, 
And  lose  them  in  each  other,  as  appears  ^^ 
In  every  bud  that  blows  ?  If  fancy  then  470 

Unequal  fails  beneath  the  pleasing  task, 
Ah,  what  shall  language  do  ?  Ah,  where  find  word* 
Tinged  with  so  many  colours  ;  and  whose  power, 
To  life  approaching,  may  perfume  my  lays 
W,th  that  fine  oil,  those  aromatic  gales,  475 

That  inexhaustive  flow  continual  round  ? 

Yet,  though  successless,  will  the  toil  delight. 
Come  then,  ye  virgins  and  ye  youths,  whose  hearts 
Have  felt  the  raptures  of  refining  love  ; 
And  thou,  Amanda,  come,  pride  of  my  song !  480 

Form'd  by  tTTti  Giauieis,  liveliness  itself! 


16  SPRING. 

Come  with  those  downcast  eyes,  sedate  and  sweet, 
Those  looks  demure,  that  deeply  pierce  the  soul, 
Where,  with  the  light  of  thoughtful  reason  mix'd, 
Shines  lively  fancy  and  the  feeling  heart  •  485 

Oh,  come  !  and  while  the  rosy -footed  May 
Steals  blushing  on,  together  let  us  tread 
The  morning  dews,  and  gather  in  their  prime 
Fresh-blooming  flowers,  to  grace  thy  braideu  nair, 
And  thy  loved  bosom  that  improves  their  sweets.    490 

See,  where  the  winding  vale  its  lavish  stores, 
Irriguous,  spreads.     See,  how  the  lily  drinks 
The  latent  rill,  scarce  oozing  through  the  grass, 
Of  growth  luxuriant ;  or  the  humid  bank, 
In  fair  profusion,  decks.     Long  let  us  walk,  405 

Where  the  breeze  blows  from  yon  extended  field 
Of  blossom'd  beans      Arabia  cannot  boast 
A  fuller  gale  of  joy,  than,  liberal,  thence 
Breathes  through  the  sense,  and  takes  the  ravish'd  soul. 
Nor  is  the  mead  unworthy  of  thy  foot,  fiOO 

Full  of  fresh  vcrduie  and  unnumber'd  flowers, 
The  negligence  of  Nature,  wido  and  wild  ; 
Where,  undisguised  by  mimic  Art-  she  spreads 
Unbounded  beauty  to  the  roving  eye. 
Here  their  delicious  task  the  fervent  bees,  505 

In  swarming  millions,  tend  :  around,  athwart, 
Through  the  soft  air,  the  busy  nations  fly, 
Cling  to  the  bud,  and,  with  inserted  tube, 
Suck  its  pure  essence,  its  ethereal  soul  ; 
And  oft,  with  bolder  wing,  they  soaring  dare  510 

1  he  purple  heath,  or  where  the  wild  thyme  grows, 
And  yellow  load  them  with  the  luscious  spoil. 

At  length  the  finish'd  garden  to  the  view 
lis  vistas  opens,  and  its  alleys  green. 
Snatch'd  through  the  verdant  maze,  the  hurried  eyo 
Distracted  wanders  ;  now  the  bowery  walk  5lfl 

Of  covert  close,  where  scarce  a  speck  of  day 
Falls  on  the  lengthen'd  gloom,  protracted  sweeps  . 
Now  meets  the  bending  sky  ;  the  river  now 


SPRING.  1? 

Dimpling  along,  the  breezy  ruffled  lake,  520 

The  forest  darkening  round,  the  glittering  spire. 
The'  ethereal  mountain,  and  the  distant  main. 
But  why  so  far  excursive  ;  when  at  hand, 
Along  these  blushing  borders,  bright  with  dew, 
And  in  yon  mingled  wilderness  of  flowers,  525 

Fair-aanded  Spring  unbosoms  every  grace  ; 
Throws  out  the  snowdrop  and  the  crocuu  first 
The  daisy,  primrose,  violet  darkly  blue, 
And  polyanthus  of  unnumber'd  dyes  ; 
The  yellow  wallflower,  stain'd  with  iron  brown ;    53C 
And  lavish  stock  that  scents  the  garden  round  : 
From  the  soft  wing  of  vernal  breezes  shed, 
Anemones  ;  auriculas,  enrich'd 
With  shining  meal  o'er  all  their  velvet  leaves  ; 
And  full  ranunculas  of  glowing  red. 
Then  comes  the  tulip  race,  where  Beauty  playg 
Her  idle  freaks  ;  from  family  diffused 
To  family,  as  flies  the  father  dust, 
The  varied  colours  run  ;  and,  while  they  break 
On  the  charm'd  eye,  the'  exulting  florist  marks,     540 
With  secret  pride,  the  wonders  of  his  hand. 
No  gradual  bloom  is  wanting  ;  from  the  bud, 
Firstborn  of  Spring,  to  Summer's  musky  tribes . 
Nor  hyacinths,  of  purest  virgin  white, 
Low-bent,  and  Uushing  inward  ;  nor  jonquilles,      545 
Of  potent  fragrance  ;  nor  narcissus  fair, 
As  o'er  the  fabled  fountain  hanging  still ; 
Nor  broad  carnations,  nor  gay  spotted  pinks  j 
Nor,  shower'd  from  every  bush,  the  damask  rose. 
Infinite  numbers,  delicacies,  smells,  550 

With  hues  on  hues  expression  cannot  paint, 
The  breath  of  Nature,  and  her  endless  bloom. 

Hail,  Source  of  Being  !  Universal  Soul 
Of  heaven  and  earth  !  Essential  Presence,  hail ! 
To  Thee  I  bend  the  knee  ;  to  Thee  my  thoughts,  556 
Continual,  climb  ;  who,  with  a  master  hand, 
Hast  the  great  whole  into  perfection  touch'd. 
2* 


18  SPRING 

By  Thee  ihe  various  vegetative  tribes, 

Wrapp'd  in  a  filmy  net  and  clad  with  leaves, 

Draw  the  live  ether  and  imbibe  the  dew  ;  5CC 

By  Thee  disposed  into  congenial  soils, 

Stands  each  attractive  plant,  and  sucks  and  swells 

The  juicy  tide  ;  a  twining  mass  of  tubes. 

At  Thy  command  the  vernal  sun  awakes 

The  torpid  sap,  detruded  to  the  root  505 

By  wintry  winds  ;  that  now,  in  fluent  dance, 

And  lively  fermentation  mounting,  spreads 

All  this  innumerous-colour'd  scene  of  things. 

As  rising  from  the  vegetable  world 
My  theme  ascends,  with  equal  wing  ascend,  6'u 

My  panting  Muse  ;  and  hark,  how  loud  the  woot*s 
Invite  you  forth  in  all  your  gayest  trim. 
Lend  me  your  song,  ye  nightingales  !  oh,  pour 
The  mazy-running  soul  of  melody 
Into  my  varied  verse  !  while  1  deduce,  575 

From  the  first  note  the  hollow  cuckoo  sings, 
The  symphony  of  Spring,  and  touch  a  theme 
Unknown  to  fame, — the  Passion  of  the  Groves. 

When  first  the  souLcfJaxe  is  sent  abroad, 
Warm  through  the  vital  air,  and  on  the  heart          580 
Harmonious  seizes,  the  gay  troops  begin, 
In  gallant  thought,  to  plume  the  painted  wing  , 
And  try  again  the  long  forgotten  strain, 
At  first  faint  warbled.     But  no  so«ner  grows 
The  soft  infusion  prevalent  and  wide,  585 

Than,  all  alive,  at  once  their  joy  o'erflows 
In  music  unconfined.     Up  springs  the  lark, 
Shrill-voiced  and  loud,  the  messenger  of  morn; 
Ere  yet  the  shadows  fly,  he  mounted  sings 
Amid  the  dawning  clouds,  and  from  their  haunts    590 
Calls  up  the  tuneful  nations.     Evpry  copse 
Deep  tangled,  tree  irregular,  and  bush 
Bending  with  dewy  moisture,  o'er  the  heads 
Of  the  coy  quiristers  that  lodge  within, 
Are  prod%al  of  harmony.     The  thrush  595 


SPRING.  19 

And  woodlark,  o'er  the  kind  contending  throng 

Superior  heard,  run  through  the  sweetest  length 

Of  notes  ;  when  listening  Philomela  deigns 

To  let  them  joy,  and  purposes,  in  thought 

Elate,  to  make  her  night  excel  their  day.  600 

The  blackbird  whistles  from  the  thorny  brake  \ 

The  mellow  bullfinch  answers  from  the  grove  • 

Nor  are  the  linnets,  o'er  the  flowering  furze 

Pout'd  out  profusely,  silent.     Join'd  to  these 

Innumerous  songsters,  in  the  freshening  shade        605 

Of  new-sprung  leaves,  their  modulations  mix 

Mellifluous.     The  jay,  the  rook,  the  daw, 

And  each  harsh  pipe,  discordant  heard  alone, 

Aid  t«e  full  concert:   while  the  stockdove  breuthes 

A  melancholy  murmur  through  the  whole.  610 

'Tis  love  create*  their  melody,  and  all 
This  waste  ol  music  n  the  voice  of  love  ;         JS 
That  even  to  birds  and  beasts  the  tender  arts'"     \ 
Of  pleasing  teaches.     Hence  the  glossy  kind 
Try  every  winning  way  inventive  love  615 

Can  dictate,  and  in  courtship  to  their  mates 
Pour  forth  their  little  souls.     First,  wide  around, 
With  distant  awe,  in  airy  rings  they  rove, 
Endeavouring  by  a  thousand  tricks  to  catch 
The  cunning,  conscious,  half  averted  glance  620 

Of  the  regardless  charmer.     Should  she  seem 
Softening  the  least  approvance  to  bestow, 
Their  colours  burnish,  and,  by  hope  inspired, 
They  brisk  advance  ;  then,  on  a  sudden  struck, 
Retire  disorder'd  ;  then  again  approach  ;  625 

In  fond  rotation  spread  the  spotted  wing, 
And  shiver  every  feather  with  desire. 

Connubial  leagues  agreed,  to  the  deep  woods 
They  haste  away,  all  as  their  fancy  leads, 
Pleasure,  or  food,  or  secret  safety  prompts ;  630 

That  Nature's  great  command  may  be  obey'd  : 
Nor  ali  the  sweet  sensations  they  perceive 
ndulged  in  vain.     Some  to  the  holly  hedge 


20  SPRING 

Nestling  repair,  and  to  the  thicket  oome ; 

Some  to  the  rude  protection  of  the  thorn  635 

Commit  their  feeble  offspring.     The  cleft  tree 

Offers  its  kind  concealment  to  a  few, 

Their  food  its  insects,  and  its  mosa  their  nests. 

Others  apart,  far  in  the  grassy  dale, 

Or  roughening  waste,  their  humble  texture  weave.  C40 

But  most  in  woodland  solitudes  delight, 

In  unfrequented  glooms,  or  shaggy  banks, 

Steep,  and  divided  by  a  babbling  brook? 

Whose  murmurs  sooth  them  all  the  livelong  day, 

When  by  kind  duty  fix'd.     Among  the  roots  645 

Of  hazel,  pendent  o'er  the  plaintive  stream, 

They  fiame  the  first  foundation  of  their  domes , 

Dry  sprigs  of  trees,  in  artful  fabric  laid, 

And  bound  with  clay  together.     Now  'tis  nought 

But  restless  hurry  through  the  busy  air,  650 

Beat  by  unnumber'd  wings.     The  swallow  sweeps 

The  slimy  pool,  to  build  his  hanging  house 

Intent.     And  often,  from  the  caroless  back 

Of  herds  and  flocks,  a  thousand  tugging  bills 

Pluck  hair  and  wool ;  and  oft,  when  unobserved,    G55 

Steal  from  the  barn  a  straw :  till,  soft  and  warm, 

Clean  and  complete,  their  habitation  grows. 

As  thus  the  patient  dam  assiduous  sits, 
Not  to  be  tempted  from  her  tender  task, 
Or  by  sharp  hunger  or  by  smooth  delight,  C60 

Though  the  whole  loosen'd  Spring  around  her  blows, 
Her  sympathizing  lover  takes  his  stand 
High  on  the'  opponent  bank,  and  ceaseless  sings 
The  tedious  time  away  ;  or  else  supplies 
Her  place  a  moment,  while  she  sudden  flits  G(>5 

To  pick  the  scanty  meal.     The'  appointed  time 
With  pious  toil  fuliill'd,  the  callow  young, 
Warm'd  and  expanded  into  perfect  life, 
Their  brittle  bondage  break,  and  come  to  light, 
A  helpless  family,  demanding  food  t>70 

With  constant  clamour  :  O,  what  passions  then, 


SPRING  2i 

What  melting  sentiments  of  kindly  care, 
On  the  new  parents  seize  !  Away  they  fly 
Affectionate,  and  undesiring  bear 
The  most  delicious  morsel  to  their  young  ,  G75 

Which  equally  distributed,  again 
The?  search  begins.     E'en  so  a  gentle  pair, 
By  fortune  sunk,  but  form'd  of  generous  mould, 
And  charm'd  with  cares  beyond  the  vulgar  breast, 
An  some  lone  cot  amid  the  distant  woods,  080 

Sustain'd  alone  by  providential  Heaven, 
Oft,  as  they  weeping  eye  their  infant  train, 
Check  their  own  appetites,  and  give  them  all 

Nor  toil  alone  they  scorn  ;  cxajiingjoste, 
By  the  great  Father  of  the  Spring  inspired,  685 

Gives  instant  courage  to  the  fearful  race, 
And,  to  the  simple,  art.     With  stealthy  wing, 
Should  some  rude  foot  their  woody  haunts  molest, 
Amid  a  neighbouring  bush  they  silent  drop, 
And  whirring  thence,  as  if  alarm'd,  deceive  6!)0 

The'  unfeeling  schoolboy.     Hence,  around  the  head 
Of  wandaring  swain,  the  white-wing  d  plover  wheels 
Her  sounding  flight,  and  then  directly  on 
In  long  excursion  skims  the  level  lawn 
To  tempt  him  from  her  nest.     The  wild-duck,  hence, 
O'er  the  rough  moss,  and  o'er  the  trackless  waste  G96 
The  heath-hen  flutters,  pious  fraud '.  to  lead 
The  hot  pursuing  spaniel  far  astray. 

Be  not  the  Muse  ashamed  here  to  bemoan 
HPT  brothers  of  the  grove,  by  tyrant  Man  '00 

Inhuman  caught,  and  in  the  narrow  cage 
From  liberty  confined  and  boundless  air. 
Dull  are  the  pretty  slaves,  their  plumage  dull, 
Ragged,  and  all  its  brightening  lustre  lost ; 
Nor  is  that  sprightly  wildness  in  their  notes,  705 

Which,  clear  and  vigorous,  warbles  from  the  beech, 
O  then,  ye  friends  of  love  and  love-taught  song, 
Spare  the  soft  tribes,  this  barbarous  art  forbear  • 


SPRING. 

If  on  your  bosom  innocence  can  win, 
Music  engage,  or  piety  persuadj.  710 

But  let  not  chief  the  nightingale  lament 
Her  ruin'd  care,  too  delicately  framed 
To  brook  the  harsh  confinement  of  the  cage. 
Oft  when,  returning  with  her  loaded  bill, 
The'  astonish'd  mother  finds  a  vacant  nest,  716 

By  the  hard  hands  of  unrelenting  clowns 
Robb'd,  to  the  ground  the  vain  provision  falls  ; 
Her  pinions  ruffle,  and  low-drocping  scarce 
Can  bear  the  mourner  to  the  poplar  shade  ', 
Where,  all  abandon'd  to  despair,  she  sings  720 

Her  sorrows  through  the  night ;  and,  on  the  bough, 
Sole-sitting,  still  at  every  dying  fall 
Takes  up  again  her  lamentable  strain 
Of  winding  woe  ;  till,  wide  around,  the  woods 
Sigh  to  her  song,  and  with  her  wail  resound.  725 

Bui  now  the  feather'd  youth  their  former  bounds, 
Ardent,  disdain  ;  and,  weighing  oft  their  wings, 
Demand  the  free  possession  of  the  sky  : 
This  one  glad  offije  mere,  and  then  dissolves 
Parental  love  at  once,  now  needless  grown.  730 

Unlavish  Wisdom  never  works  in  vam. 
'Tis  on  some  evening,  sunny,  grateful,  mild, 
When  nought  but  balm  is  breathing  through  the  woods, 
With  yellow  lustro  bright,  that  the  r.ew  tribes 
Visit  the  spacious  heavens,  and  look  abroad  735 

On  Nature's  common,  far  as  they  can  see, 
Or  wing,  their  range  and  pasture.     O'er  the  br^ighs 
Dancing  about,  still  at  the  giddy  verge 
Their  resolution  fails  ;  their  pinions  still, 
In  loose  libration  stretch'd,  to  trust  the  void  740 

Trembling  refuse  :  till  down  before  them  (ly 
The  parent  guides,  and  chide,  exhort,  command, 
Or  push  them  off.     The  surging  air  receives 
Its  plurny  burden  ;  and  their  self-taught  jfloaiffa 
Wffinbw  the  waving  element     On  ground  745 


SPRING.  23 

Alighted,  bolder  up  again  they  lecd, 
Farther  and  farther  on,  the  lengthening  flight , 
Till  vanish'd  every  fear,  and  every  power 
Roused  into  life  and  action,  light  in  air 
The'  acquitted  parents  see  their  soaring  race,          750 
And  once  rejoicing  never  know  them  more. 

High  from  the  summit  of  a  craggy  cliff, 
Hung  o'er  the  deep,  such  as  amazing  frowns 
On  utmost  Kilda's*  shore,  whose  lonely  race 
Resign  the  setting  sun  to  Indian  worlds,  755 

The  royal  eagle  draws  his  vigorous  young, 
Strong-pounced,  and  ardent  with  paternal  fire. 
Now  fit  to  raise  a  kingdom  of  their  own, 
He  drivea  them  from  his  fort,  the  towering  seat, 
For  ages,  of  his  empire  ;  which,  in  peace, 
Unstain'd  he  holds,  while  many  a  league  to  sea 
He  wings  his  course,  and  preys  in  distant  isles. 

Should  I  my  steps  turn  to  the  rural  seat, 
Whose  lof*y  elms  and  venerable  oaks 
Invite  the  rook,  who  high  amid  the  boughs,  765 

In  early  Spring,  his  airy  city  builds, 
And  ceaseless  caws  imusive  ;  there,  well  pleased, 
I  might  the  various  polity  survey 
Of  the  mir'd  household  kind.     The  careful  hen 
Calls  all  her  chirping  family  around,  770 

Fed  asd  defended  by  the  fearless  cock  ; 
Whose  breast  with  ardour  flames,  as  on  he  walks, 
Graceful,  and  crows  defiance.     In  the  pond, 
The  finely  checker'd  duck,  before  her  train, 
Rows  garrulous.     The  stately  sailing  swan  775 

Gives  out  his  snowy  plumaga  to  the  gale  ; 
And,  arching  proud  his  neck,  with  oary  feet 
Bears  forward  fierce,  and  guards  his  osier  isle, 
Protective  of  his  young.     The  turkey  nigh, 
Loud  threatening,  reddens ;  while  the  peacock  spreads, 
His  every-colour'd  glory  to  the  sun  781 

*  The  furthest  of  the  western  islands  of  Scotlar 


24  SPRING. 

And  swims  in  radian  L  majesty  along 

O'er  the  whole  homely  scene  the  cooing  dove 

Flies  thick  in  amorous  chase,  and  wanton  rolls 

The  glancing  eye,  and  turns  the  changeful  neck.    785 

While  thus  the  gentle  tenants  of  the  shado 
Indulge  their  purer  loves,  the  rougher  world 
Of  brutes  below  rush  furious  into  flame 
And  fierce  desire.     Through  all  his  lusty  veins 
The  bull,  deep-seorch'd,  the  raging  passion  feels.    790 
Of  pasture  sick,  and  negligent  of  food, 
Scarce  seen,  he  wades  among  the  yellow  broom, 
While  o'er  his  ample  sides  the  rambling  sprays 
Luxuriant  shoot ;  o*  through  the  mazy  wood 
Dejected  wanders,  nor  the'  enticing  bud  795 

Crops,  though  it  presses  on  his  careless  sense. 
And  oft,  in  jealous  maddening  fancy  wrapp'd, 
He  seeks  the  fight ;  and,  idly  butting,  feigns 
His  rival  gored  in  every  knotty  trunk. 
Him  should  he  meet,  the  bellowing  war  be'  ins  j     800 
Their  eyes  flash  fury ;  to  the  hollow'd  earth, 
Whence  the  sand  flies,  they  mutter  bloody  deeds, 
And,  groaning  deep,  the'  impetuous  battle  miz  : 
While  the  fair  heifer,  balmy-breathing,  near, 
Stands  kindling  up  their  rage.     The  trembling  steed, 
With  this  hot  impulse  seized  in  every  nerve,  806 

Nor  heeds  the  rein,  nor  hears  the  sounding  thoi:g  • 
Blows  are  not  felt ;  but,  tossing  high  his  head. 
And  by  the  well  known  joy  to  distant  plains 
Attracted  strong,  all  wild  he  bursts  away  ;  810 

O  er  rocks  and  woods  and  craggy  mountains  flies  : 
And,  neighing,  on  the'  aerial  summit  takes 
The'  exciting  gale  ;  then,  steep-descending,  cleaves 
The  headlong  torrents  foaming  down  the  hills, 
E'en  where  the  madness  of  the  straitcn'd  stream     815 
T'irns  in  black  eddies  round  :  such  is  the  force 
With  which  his  frantic  heart  and  sinews  swell. 

Nor  undelighted  by  the  boundless  Spring 
Are  the  broad  monsters  of  the  foaming  dee» 


SPUING.  25 

From  the  deep  ooze  and  gelid  cavern  roused,  820 

They  flounce  and  tumble  in  unwieldly  joy. 
Dire  ware  the  strain,  and  dissonant,  to  sing 
The  cruel  raptures  of  the  savage  kind : 
How  by  this  flame  their  native  wrath  sublimed, 
Thejr  roam,  amid  the  fury  of  their  heart,  825 

The  far  resounding  waste  in  fiercer  bands, 
And  growl  their  horrid  loves.     But  this  the  theme 
I  sing,  enraptured,  to  the  British  Fair, 
Forbids,  and  leads  me  to  the  mountain  brow, 
Where  sits  the  shepherd  on  the  grassy  turf,  830 

Inhaling,  healthful,  the  descending  sun. 
Around  him  feeds  his  many-bleating  flock, 
Of  various  cadence  ;  and  his  sportive  lambs, 
This  way  and  that  convolved,  in  friskful  glee, 
Their  frolics  play.     And  now  the  sprightly  race      635 
Invites  them  forth  ;  when  swL%  the  signal  given, 
They  start  away,  and  sweep  the  massy  mound 
That  runs  around  the  hill  ;  the  rampart  once 
Of  iron  war,  in  ancient  barbarous  times, 
When  disunited  Britain  ever  bled,  840 

Lost  in  eternal  broil :  ere  yet  she  grew 
To  this  deep-laid  indissoluble  state. 

»WJiere  Wealth  and  Commerce  lift,  their  golden  head* 
And  o'er  our  labours  Liberty  and  Law, 
Impartial,  watch  ;  the  wonder  of  a  world  1  845 

What  is  tnis  mighty  breath,  ye  sages,  say, 
That,  in  a  powerful  language,  felt,  not  heard, 
Instructs  the  fowls  of  heaven  ?  and  through  their  broa^l 
These  arts  of  love  diffuses  ?  WJiat,  but J3gd._? 
lMgijla£L.God  !  wjio,  boundless  Spirit  all^  8f>0 

And  unremitting  Energy t  p*>Tlfiftar 

Adjusts,  sustains,  and  agitates  the  whole. 
He  ceaseless  works  alone  ;  and ^  yet  alr>:\o 
Seems  not  to  work:  with  such  jierft-elion  framed 
Ts~fEiiT  complex  "stupendous  scheme  of  things.  v/1556 
But,  though  conceal 'd,  to  every  purer  eye        ^\ 
The'  informing  Author  in  his  works  appears  : 
3 


26  SPRING. 

Chief,  lovely  Spring,  in  tliee,  and  thy  soft  scenes, 

The  Siailiag-JGoS  is  seen  ;  while  waterj~earth. 

And  air  attest  his  bounty  ;  which  exalts  860 

The  hrute  creation  to  this  finer  thought 

And  annual  melts  their  undesigning  hearts 

Profusely  thus  in  tenderness  and  joy. 

Still  let  my  song  a  nobler  note  assume, 
And  sing  the'  infusive  force  of  Spring  on  man.       865 
When  heaven  and  earth,  as  if  contending,  vie 
To  raise  his  being  and  serene  his  soul, 
Can  he  forbear  to  join  the  general  smile 
Of  Nature  ?  Can  fierce  passions  vex  his  breast, 
While  every  gale  is  peace,  and  every  grove  870 

Is  melody  ?  hence  !  from  the  bounteous  walks 
Of  flowing  Spring,  ye  sordid  sons  of  earth, 
Hard,  and  unfeeling  of  another's  woo ; 
Or  only  lavisii  to  yourselves  ;  away  ! 
But  come,  ye  generous  minds,  in  whose  wide  thought, 
Of  all  his  works,  creative  Bounty  burns  87C 

With  warmest  beam  ;  and  on  your  open  front 
And  liberal  eye,  sits,  from  his  dark  retreat 
Inviting  modest  Want.     Nor,  till  invoked, 
Can  restless  goodness  wait ;  your  active  search      880 
Leaves  no  coid  wintry  corner  unexplored  ; 
Like  silent-working  Heaven,  surprising  oft 
The  lonely  heart  with  unexpected  good. 
For  you  the  roving  Spirit  of  the  wind 
Blows  Spring  abroad  ;  for  you  the  teeming  clouds  885 
Descend  in  gladsome  plenty  o'er  the  world ; 
And  the  sun  sheds  his  kindest  rays  for  you, 
Ye  flower  of  human  race  !  in  these  green  days, 
Reviving  Sickness  lifts  her  languid  head  ; 
Life  flows  afresh;  and  young-eyed  Health  exalts    890 
The  whole  creation  round.     Contentment  walks 
The  sunny  glade,  and  feels  an  inward  bliss 
Spring  o'er  his  mind,  beyond  the  power  of  kings 
To  purcnase.     Pure  serenity  apace 
Induces  thought  and  contemplation  still  896 


SPRING.  27 

Ry,  «««lfl:  ^q^j-ees  the  love  of  Nature  works, 
And  warms  thebosom  ,  !B1  It  l*ai,'?ublimed 
To  rapture  and  enthusiastic  heat, 
We-fee-1  Uie...pi£§.ent  DeUj^  aud  taste 
The  joy  of  GOD  to  see  a  happy  world  !  900 

These  are  the  sacred  feelings  of  thy  heart, 
heartiaform'd  by  r 


O  LytteltonUhe.fxiend!  thy  passions  thus 

And  meditations  vary,  as  at  large, 

Courting  the  Muse,  through  Hagley  Park  thou  stray'st  j 

Thy  British  Tempe  !  there  along  the  dale,  906 

With  woods  o'erhung,  and  shagg'd  with  mossy  rocks, 

Whence  on  each  hand  the  gushing  waters  play, 

And  down  the  rough  cascade  white  dashing  fall, 

Or  gleam  in  lengthen'd  vista  through  the  trees,      910 

You  silent  steal  ;  or  sit  beneath  the  shade 

Of  solemn  oaks,  that  tuft  the  swelling  mounts 

Thrown  graceful  round  by  nature's  careless  hand, 

And  pensive  listen  to  the  various  voice 

Of  rural  peace  :  the  iierds,  the  flocks,  the  birds,      915 

The  hollow-whispering  breeze,  the  plaint  of  rills 

That,  purling  down  amid  the  twisted  roots 

Which  creep  around,  their  dewy  murmurs  shake 

On  the  sooth'd  ear.     From  these  abstracted  oft, 

You  wander  through  the  philosophic  world  ;  920 

Where  in  bright  train  continual  wonders  risu, 

Or  to  the  curious  or  the  pious  eye. 

And  oft,  conducted  by  historic  truth, 

You  tread  the  long  extent  of  backward  time  : 

Planning,  with  warm  benevolence  of  mind  925 

And  honest  zeal,  unwarp'd  by  party  rage, 

Britannia's  weal  ;  how  from  the  venal  gulf 

j\Traise  ner  virtue,  ana  net  arta  revive. 

Oj^turning  tin  'line  thy  view,  these  graver  thoughts 

TJigjMuses  charm  :  while,  with  sure  taste  refined,   930 

You  draw  the'  inspiring  breath  of  ancient  song; 

Till  nob]y  rises,  emulous,  thv  own. 

Perhaps  thy  loved  Lucinda,  shares  thy  we  Ik, 


28  SPRING. 

With  soul  to  thine  attuned.     Then  Nature  all 
Wears  to  the  lover's  eye  a  look  of  love  :  935 

And  all  the  tumult  of  a  guilty  world, 
Toss'd  by  ungenerous  passions,  sinks  away. 
The  tender  heart  is  animated  peace  ; 
And  as  it  pours  its  copious  treasures  forth, 
Ii  varied  converse,  softening  every  theme,  940 

\  ou,  frequent  pausing,  turn,  and  from  her  eyes, 
Where  meeken'd  sense,  and  amiable  grace, 
And  lively  sweetness  dwell,  enraptured,  drink 
That  nameless  spirit  of  ethereal  joy, 
-Unutterable  happiness  !  which  lovt_  945 

Alonebestbws,  ancT&n  a  favour'd  few. 
Meantime  you  gain  the  height,  from  whose  fair  brow 
The  bursting  prospect  spreads  immense  around  : 
And  snatch'd  o'er  hill  and  dale,  and  wood  and  lawn, 
And  verdant  field,  and  darkening  heath  between,    950 
And  villages  embosom'd  soft  in  trees, 
And  spiry  towns  Ly  surging  columns  mark'd 
Of  household  smoke,  your  eye  excursive  roams  : 
"Wide-stretcaing  from  the  hall,  in  whose  kind  haunt 
The  Hospitable  Genius  lingers  still,  955 

To  where  the  broken  landscape,  by  degrees 
Ascending,  roughens  into  rigid  hills  ; 
O'er  which  the  Cambrian  mountains,  like  far  clouds 
Th^t  skirt  the  blue  horizon,  dusky  rise. 

Flush'd  by  the  spirit  of  the  genial  year,  9GO 

Now  from  the  virgin's  cheek  a  fresher  bloom 
Shoots,  less  and  less,  th^  live  carnation  round  j 
Her  lips  blush  deeper  sweets  ;  she  breathes  of  youth  ; 
The  shining  moisture  swells  into  her  eyes, 
In  brighter  flow  ;  her  wishing  bosom  heaves  JK>5 

With  palpitations  wild  ;  kind  tumults  seize 
Her  veins,  and  all  her  yielding  soul  is  love. 
From  the  keen  ^aze  her  lover  turns  away, 
Full  of  the  dear  ecstatic  power,  and  sick 
With  sighing  langaishment.     Ah  then,  ye  fair  '      970 
Be  greatly  cautious  of  your  sliding  hearts 


L/L 

\  A" 

VG£ 
X  v* 

/  r 

'  rr< 


SPRING.  £1 

Dare  not  the'  infectious  sigh ;  the  pleading  look, 
Downcast  and  low,  in  meek  submission  dress'd, 

ut  full  of  guile.     Let  not  the  fervent  tongue, 
Prompt  to  deceive,  with  adulation  smooth,  975 

Gain  on  your  purposed  will.     Nor  in  the  bower, 
Where  woodbines  flaunt,  and  roses  shed  a  couch, 

Evening  draws  her  crimson  curtains  round, 
Trust  your  soft  minutes  with  betraying  Man. 

Ami  let;  the*  yipuring  youth  beware  of  love.         980 
O f  the  smgath-ghtftee-WwaTe  T-fer-'tty  too  late, — 
When  on  his  heart  the  torrent  softness  pours ; 
Then  wisdom  prostrate  lies,  and  fading  frtme 
Dissolves  in  air  away  ;  while^theTbnd  soul7~~ 
WrsrppfifrtrTgay  visions  of  unreal  bliss,  986 

Still  pjiinta-thfi'  vUu^ivgJprrn  ;  the  kindling  grace j 

The'  enticing..siiule4^the  modcst-seamin^  _ey  BJ, 

Beneath  whose  beauteous  bearnsx  belying  heaven, 

Lurk  searchlesa  cunning,  cruelty,. and  death: 

And  still,  false -warbling  in  his  cheated  ear,  990 

Her  siren  voice,  enchanting,  draws  him  on 

To  guileful  shores  and  meads  of  fatal  joy. 

E'en  present,  in  the  very  lap  of  love 
Inglorious  laid  ;  while  music  flows  around, 
Perfumes,  and  oils,  and  wine,  and  wanton  hours  ;   995 
Amid  the  roses  fierce  Repentance  rears 
Her  snaky  crest ;  a  quick  returning  pang 
Shoots  through  the  conscious  heart ;  where  honour  stili 
And  great  design,  against  the'  oppressive  load 
Of  luxury,  by  fits,  impatient  heave. 

But  absent,  what  fantastic  woes,  aroused, 
Rage  in  each  thought,  by  restless  musing  fed, 
Chill  the  warm  cheek,  and  blast  the  bloom  of  life  ? 
Neglected  fortune  flies  ;  and,  sliding  swift, 
Prone  into  ruiu,  fall  his  scorn'd  affairs.  1006 

Tis  nought  but  gloom  around  :  the  darken'd  sun 
Loses  his  light.     The  rosy-bosom'd  Spring 
To  weeping  fancy  pines ;  and  yon  bright  arch, 
Contracted,  bends  into  a  dusky  vault 
3* 


30  SPRING. 

All  Nature  fades  extinct ;  and  she  alone,  1010 

Heard,  felt,  and  seen,  possesses  every  thought, 
Fills  every  sense,  and  pants  in  every  vein 
\      Books  are  but  formal  dulness,  tedious  friends ; 
And  sad  amid  the  social  band  he  sits, 
Lonely,  and  inattentive.     From  his  tongue  1015 

Tho'  unfinished  period  falls :  while,  borne  away 
On  swelling  thought,  his  wafted  spirit  flies 
To  the  vain  bosorn  of  his  distant  fair  ; 
And  leaves  the  semblance  of  a  lover,  fix'd 
In  melancholy  site,  with  head  declined,  1020 

And  love-dejected  eyes.     Sudden  he  starts, 
Shook  from  his  tender  trance,  and  restless  runs 
To  glimmering  shades  and  sympathetic  glooms ; 
"Where  the  dun  umbrage  o'er  the  falling  stream, 
Romantic,  hangs  ;  there  through  the  pensive  dusk 
Strays,  in  heart-thrilling  meditation  lost,  1026 

Indulging  all  to  love  :  or  on  the  bank 
Thrown,  amid  drooping  lilies,  swells  the  breeze 
With  sighs  unceasing,  and  the  brook  with  tears. 
Thus  in  soft  anguish  he  consumes  the  day,  1030 

Nor  quits  his  deep  retirement,  till  the  Moon 
Peeps  through  the  chambers  of  the  3eecy  east, 
Enlighten'd  by  degrees,  and  in  her  train 
Leada  on  the  gentle  Hours  ;  then  forth  he  walks, 
Beneath  the  trembling  languish  of  her  beam,         1035 
With  soilen'd  soul,  and  woes  the  bird  of  eve 
To  mingle  woes  with  his :  or,  while  the  world 
And  all  the  sons  of  Care  lie  hush'd  in  sleep, 
Associates  with  the  midnight  shadows  drear  ; 
And,  sighing  to  the  lonely  taper,  pours  1040 

His  idly-tortured  heart  into  the  page, 
Meant  for  the  moving  messenger  of  love  ; 
Where  rapture  burns  on  rapture,  every  line 
With  rising  frenzy  fired.     But  if  on  bed 
Delirious  flung,  sleep  from  his  pillow  flies,  1046 

All  n'trht  he  tosses,  nor  the  h«lmy  power 
In  any  posture  finds  ,  till  the  gray  Morn 


SPRING.  31 

Lifta  her  pale  lustre  on  the  paler  wretch, 
Exanimate  by  love  j  and  then  perhaps 
Exhausted  Nature  sinks  awhile  to  rest, 
Still  interrupted  by  distracted  dreams, 
That  o'er  the  sick  imagination  rise, 
And  ir  black  colours  paint  the  mimic  scene. 
Oft  wkn  the'  enchantress  of  his  soul  he  talks  ;  - 
Sometimes  in  crowds  distress'd  ;  or  if  retired 
To  secret  winding  flower-enwoven  bowers, 
Far  from  the  dull  impertinence  of  Mar, 
Just  as  he,  credulous,  his  endless  cares 
Beo-ins  to  loose  in  bhnd  oblivious  love, 
Snatch  d  from  her  yielded  hand,  he  knows  not  how 
Through  forests  huge,  and  long  untravel'd  heal 
With  desolation  brown,  he  wanders  waste, 
In  night  and  tempest  wrapp'd  :  or  shrinks  aghast, 
Back,  from  tlie  bending  precipice  ;  or  wades 
The  turbid  stream  below,  and  strives  to  reach 
The  further  shore  ;  where  succourless  and  sad, 
She  with  extended  arms  his  aid  implores  ; 
But  strives  in  vain  ;  borne  by  the'  outrageous  ilood 
To  distance  down,  he  rides  the  ridgy  wave, 
Or  whelm'd  beneath  the  boiling  eddy  sinks. 
These  are  the  charming  agonies  of  love, 
Whose  misery  delights.     But  through  the  heart 
phniiM  jpalcuAftyJts  ygaom  once  diffuse, 
Tis  then  delightful  misery  no  more, 
But  agony  unmix'd,  incessant  gall, 
Corroding  everj^ojigj^id^]a_sting  all^ 
Love's  P7ra3Ts~e.    Ye  fairy  prospects,  then, 
Ye  ttearsot*7oses;  and  ye  bowers  of  joy, 
Farewell!  ye  gleamings  of  departed  peace, 
Shine  out  your  last '  the  yellow-tinging  plague 
Internal  vision  taints,  and  in  a  night 
Of  livid  gloom  imagination  wraps. 
An,  then!  instead  of  love-enliveri'd  cheeks, 
Of  sunnv  features,  and  of  ardent  eyes 
VYitfc  flowing  rapture  bright,  dark  looks  succeed,  1085 


32  SPRING. 

Suffused  and  glaring  with  untender  fire  , 

A  clouded  aspect,  and  a  burning  cheek, 

Where  the  whole  poison'd  soul,  malignant,  sits 

And  frightens  love  away.     Ten  thousand  fears 

Jnvented  wild,  ten  thousand  frantic  views  1090 

Of  horrid  rivals,  hanging  on  the  charms 

For  which  he  melts  in  fondness,  eat  him  up 

With  fervent  anguish  and  consuming  rage. 

In  vain  reproaches  lend  their  idle  aid, 

Deceitful  pride,  and  resolution  frail,  1095 

Giving  false  peace  a  moment.     Fancy  pours, 

Afresh,  her  beauties  on  his  busy  thought, 

Her  first  endearments  twining  round  the  soul, 

With  all  the  witchcraft  of  ensnaring  love. 

Straight  the  fierce  storm  involves  his  mind  anew,  i  100 

Flames  through  the  nerves,  ana  ooils  along  the  veins : 

While  anxtoas  doubt  distracts  the  tortured  heart  • 

For  e'en  iho  sad  assurance  of  his  fears 

Were  ease  to  what  he  feels.     Thus  the  warm  youth, 

Whom  love  deludes  into  his  thorny  wilds,  1105 

Through  flowery-tempting  paths,  or  leads  a  life 

Of  fever'd  rapture  or  of  cruel  care  ; 

His  brightest  aims  extinguish'd  all,  and  all 

His  lively  moments  running  down  to  waste. 

But  happy  they  !  the  happiest  of  their  kind  !      1110 
Whom  gentler  stars  unite,  and  in  one  fate 
Their  hearts,  their  fortunes,  and  their  beings  blend. 
'Tis  not  the  coarser  tie  of  human  laws, 
Unnatural  oft  and  foreign  to  the  mind, 
That  binds  their  peace,  but  harmony  itself,  1115 

Attuning  all  their  passions  into  love  ; 
Whore  friendship  full  exerts  her  softest  power, 
Perfect  esteem  enlivened  by  desire 
Ineffable,  and  sympathy  of  soul  j 

Thought  meeting  thought,  and  will  preventing  will, 
With  boundless  confidence  :  for  nought  but  love  1121 
Can  answer  love,  am!  render  CTiss  secure. 
Let  him, 


SPRING.  33 

To  bless  himself,  from  sordid  parents  buys 
The  loathing  virgin,  in  eternal  care,  1123 

Well  merited,  consume  his  nights  and  daya 
Let  barbarous  nations,  whose  inhuman  love 
Is  wild  desire,  fierce  as  the  suns  they  feel  ; 
Let  eastern  tyrants  from  the  light  of  heaven 
Seclude  their  bosom-slaves,  meanly  possess'd         1130 
Of  a  mere  lifeless,  violated  form  ; 
While  those  whom  love  cements  in  holy  faith, 
And  equal  transport,  free  as  Nature  live, 
Disdaining  fear.     What  is  the  world  to  them, 
Its  pomp,  its  pleasure,  and  its  nonsense  all  1 
Who  in  each  other  clasp  whatever  frir 
High  fancy  forms,  and  lavish  hearts  can  wish  ; 
Something  than  beauty  dearer,  should  they  look 
Or  on  the  mind,  or  mind-illumined  face  ; 
Truth,  goodness,  honour,  harmony,  and  love,         1140 
The  richest  bounty  of  indulgent  Heaven. 
Meantime  a  smumg  offspring  rises  round, 
And  mingles  both  their  graces.     By  degrees, 
The  human  blossom  blows  ;  and  every  day, 
Soft  as  it  rolls  along,  shows  some  new  charm,       1145 
The  father's  lustre,  and  the  mother's  bloom. 
Then  infant,  reason  grows  apace,  and  calls 
For  the  kind  hand  of  an  assiduous  care. 
Delightful  task  !  to  rear  the  tender  thought, 
To  teach  the  young  idea  how  to  shoot,  1150 

To  pour  the  fresh  instruction  o'er  the  mind, 
To  breathe  the'  enlivening  spirit,  and  to  fix 
The  generous  purpose  in  the  glowing  breast. 
Oh,  speak  the  joy  !  ye,  whom  the  sudden  tear 
Surprises  often,  while  you  look  around,  1155 

And  nothing  strikes  your  eye  but  sights  of  bliss, 
Ml  various  Nature  pressing  on  the  heart : 
An  elegant  sufficiency,  content, 
Retirement,  rural  quiet,  friendship,  books, 
Ease  and  alternate  labour,  useful  life,  1160 

Progressive  virtue,  and  approving  Heaven1 


34  SPRING. 

'    /These  aro  the  matchless  joys  of  virtuous  love; 
/  And  thus  their  moments  fly.     The  Seasons  thus, 
As  ceaseless  round  a  jarring  world  they  roll, 
Still  find  them  happy;  and  consenting  SPUING 
Sheds  her  own  rosy  garland  on  their  heads  : 
Till  evening  comes  at  last,  serene  and  mild  ; 
When  after  the  long  vernal  day  of  life, 
Enamour'd  more,  as  more  remembrance  swells 
With  many  a  proof  of  recollected  love, 
Together  down  they  sink  in  socjjil  alppp  ; 
Together  freed,  fheir  gentle  spirits  fly 
To  scenes  where  love  and  bliss  immortal  reigc 


k.    ^ 


SUMMER 


The  **>5*--  f-y^teA.  Invocation.  Address  to  Mr.  Dodington 
An  introductory  reflection  on  the  motion  of  the  heavenly  hodion; 
whence  th*  a-.-ocession  of  the  geaswns.  As  the  face  of  Nature  in 
this  season  is  almost  uniform,  the  progress  of  the  poem  is  a  d««- 
Bcription  of  a  summer's  (lay.  The  dawn.  Sun-rising.  Hymn  to 
the  sun.  Forenoon.  Summer  insects  descrihed.  Haymaking. 
Sheepshearing.  Noonday.  A  woodland  retreat.  Group  of  herds 
arv»  *W.ks.  A  solemn  grove  :  how  it  affects  a  contemplative  mind. 
A  catara*;^  i.»J  rude  scene.  View  of  Summer  in  the  torrid  ZOIK* 
Storm  of  thunder  and  lightning.  A  tale.  The  stoirn  over,  a  se 
rene  afternoon.  Bathing.  Hour  of  walking.  Transition  to  the 
prospect  of  a  rich  well  cultivated  country;  which  introduces  a 
pan^vric  on  Great  Britain.  Sun-set.  Evening.  Night.  Sum 
mer  meteor*.  A  comet.  The  whole  concluding  with  the  prai*« 
of  philosophy. 


FROM  brightening  fields  of  ether  fair  disclosed, 

Child  of  the  Sun,  refulgent  SUMMER  comes, 

In  pride  of  youth,  and  felt  through  Nature's  depth 

He  comes  attended  by  the  sultry  Hours, 

And  ever  fanning  breezes,  on  his  way  ;  1 

While,  from  his  ardent  look,  the  turning  Spring 

Averts  her  blushful  face  ;  and  earth,  and  skies, 

All  smiling,  to  his  hot  dominion  leaves. 

Hence,  let  me  haste  into  the  midwood  shade, 
Where  scarce  a  sunbeam  wanders  through  the  gloom  ; 
And  on  the  dark-green  grass,  beside  the  brink  1 1 

Of  haunted  stream,  that  by  the  roots  of  oak 
Rolls  o'er  the  rocky  channel,  lie  at  large, 
Anci  sing  ihs  glories  of  the  circling  year. 

Come,  Inspiration  !  from  thy  hermit-seat,  l-r> 

By  mortal  seldom  found  :  may  Fancy  dare, 
From  thy  fix'd  serious  eye,  and  raptured  glance 
Shot  on  surrounding  heaven,  to  steal  one  look 
Creative  ::fU'.e  Poet,  every  power 
Exalting  to  an  ecstasy  of  soul. 


36  SUMMER. 

And  them,  my  yoxithful  Muse's  early  friend, 
In  whom  the  human  graces  all  unite  : 
Pure  light  of  mind,  and  tenderness  of  heart : 
Genius,  and  wisdom  ;  the  gay  social  sense, 
By  decency  chastised  ;  goodness  and  wit,  2G 

In  seldom-meeting  harmony  combined  ; 
Unblernish'd  honour,  and  an  active  zeal 
For  Britain's  glory,  Liberty,  and  Man  ; 
O  Dodington  !  attend  my  rural  song, 
IStoop  to  my  theme,  inspirit  every  line,  30 

And  teach  me  to  deserve  thy  just  applause. 

With  what  an  awful  world-revolving  power 
Were  first  the  unwieldly  planets  launch'd  along 
The'  illimitable  void  !  thus  to  remain, 
Amid  the  flux  of  many  thousand  years,  35 

That  oft  has  swept  the  toiling  race  of  men 
And  all  their  labour 'd  monuments  away, 
Firm,  unremitting,  matchless,  in  their  course  ; 
To  the  kind-temper'd  change  of  night  and  day, 
And  of  the  seasons  ever  stealing  round,  40 

Minutely  faithful  >-»«eli>the'  All-pej&ct  Hand.! 
-TJiat  poised,  impels,  and  ru1fes2^steady^wjifi,le. 

vVtrerwiaiK jop..iax>re1iTe^lterriare  T^wins  are  fired, 
And  Cancer  reddens  with  the  solar  blaze, 
Short  is  the  doubtful  empire  of  the  night ;  4f> 

And  soon,  observant  of  approaching  day, 
The  meek-eyed  Morn  appears,  mother  of  dews, 
At  first  faint-gleaming  in  the  dappled  east : 
Till  far  o'er  ether  spreads  the  widening  glow  ; 
And,  from  before  the  lustre  of  her  face,  50 

White  break  the  clouds  away.     With  quicken'd  step, 
Brown  Night  retires :  young  Day  pours  in  apace, 
And  opens  all  the  lawny  prospect  wide. 
The  dripping  rock,  the  mountain's  misty  top 
Swell  on  the  sight,  and  brighten  with  the  dawn.       5? 
Blue,  through  the  dusk,  the  smoking  currents  shine 
And  from  the  bladed  field  the  fearful  hare 
Limps,  awkward  ;  while  along  the  forest  glade 


SUMMER.  37 

Tho  wild  deer  trip,  and  often  turning  gaze 
At  eariy  passenger.     Music  awakes  GO 

The  native  voice  of  unassembled  joy  ; 
And  thick  around  the  woodland  hymns  arise. 
Roused  by  the  cock,  the  soon-clad  shepherd  leaves 
His  mossy  cottage,  where  with  Peace  he  dwells; 
Arid  from  the  crowded  fold,  in  order,  drives  65 

His  flock,  to  taste  the  verdure  of  the  morn. 

Falsely  luxurious  !  will  not  Man  awake  ; 
And,  springing  from  the  bed  of  sloth,  enjoy 
The  cool,  the  fragrant,  and  the  silent  hour, 
To  meditation  due  and  sacred  song  ?  70 

For  is  there  ought  in  sleep  can  charm  the  wise  ? 
To  lie  in  dead  oblivion,  losing  half 
The  fleeting  moments  of  too  short  a  life ; 
Total  extinction  of  the'  enlighten'd  soul! 
Or  else,  to  feverish  vanity  alive,  75 

Wilder'd,  and  tossing  through  distemper'd  dreams? 
Who  would  in  such  a  gloomy  state  remain 
Longer  than  Nature  craves ;  when  every  Muse 
And  every  blooming  pleasure  wait  without, 
To  bless  the  wildly  devious  morning  walk  ?  80 

But  yonder  comes  the  powerful  King  of  Day, 
Rejoicing  in  the  east.     The  lessening  cloud, 
The  kindling  azure,  and  the  mountain's  brow 
Illumed  with  fluid  gold,  his  near  approach 
Betoken  glad.    Lo  !  now,  apparent  all,  85 

Aslant  the  dew-bright  earth,  and  colour'd  air, 
He  looks  in  boundless  majesty  abroad  ; 
And  sheds  the  shining  day,  that  burnish'd  plays 
On  rocks  and  hills  and  towers  and  wandering  streams, 
High  gleaming  from  afar.     Prime  cheerer,  Light !  90 
Of  all  material  beings  first  and  best ! 
Efflux  divine  !  Nature's  resplendent  robe  ' 
Without  whose  vesting  beauty  all  were  wrapp'dv 
In  unessential  gloom  !  and  thou,  O  Sun  ! 
Soul  of  surrounding  worlds  '  in  whom  best  seen  '    &6 
Shines  out  thy  Maker  !  may  I  sing  of  thee  ? 
4 


38  SUMMER. 

'Tis  by  thy  secret,  strong,  attractive  force. 
As  with  a  chain  indissoluble  bound, 
1  hy  system  rolls  entire  :  from  the  far  bourn 
Of  utmost  Saturn,  wheeling  wide  his  round  100 

Of  thirty  years,  to  Mercury,  whose  disk 
Can  scarce  be  caught  by  philosophic  eye, 
Lost  in  the  near  effulgence  of  thy  blaze. 

Informer  of  the  planetary  train! 

Without  whose  quickening  glance  their  cumbrous  orbs 
Were  brute  unlovely  mass,  inert  and  dead,  106 

And  not,  as  now,  the  green  abodes  of  life ! 
How  many  forms  of  being  wait  on  thee  ! 
Inhaling  spirit ;  from  the'  unfetter'd  mind, 
By  thee  sublimed,  down  to  the  daily  race,  110 

The  mixing  myriads  of  thy  setting  beam. 

The  vegetable  world  is  also  thine, 
Parent  oi  Seasons !  who  the  pomp  precede 
That  waits  thy  throne,  as  through  thy  vast  domain, 
Annual,  along  the  bright  ecliptic  road,  115 

In  world-rejoicing  state,  it  moves  sublime. 
Meantime  the'  expecting  nations,  circled  gay 
With  all  the  various  tribes  of  foodful  earth, 
fmplore  thy  bounty,  or  send  grateful  up 
A  common  hymn  :  while,  round  thy  beaming  car,  120 
High  seen,  the  Seasons  lead,  in  sprightly  dance 
Harmonious  knit,  the  rosy-finger'd  Hours, 
The  Zephyrs  floating  loose,  the  timely  Rains, 
Ot  bloom  ethereal  the  light  footed  Dews, 
And  sotten  d  into  joy  the  surly  Storms.  125 

These,  in  successive  turn,  with  lavish  hand, 
Shower  every  beauty,  e^erv  fragrance  shower, 
Herbs,  flowers,  and  fruits  ,  and,  kindling  at  thy  touch, 
From  land  to  land  is  flush'd  the  vernal  yenr. 

Nor  to  the  surface  of  enliven'd  earth,  130 

Graceful  with  hills  and  dales,  aad  leafy  woods, 
Her  liberal  tresses,  is  thy  force  confined  : 
But,  to  the  bowel'd  cavern  darting  deep, 
The  mineral  kinds  confess  thy  mighty  DOWS* 


SUMMER.  39 

Effulgent,  hence  the  veiny  marble  shines  ;  135 

Hence  Labour  draws  his  tools  ;  hence  burnish'd  Wai 
Gleams  on  the  day  !  the  noblorjivor^oi'J&efitTe 
Hence  bless  mankind,  ancTgenerous  Cgrnmexce-biada 
THeTound  of  nations  in  a  gol**"  nhfm. 

"TKeHJiliilfuTtful  rock  itself,  impregn'd  by  thee,     140 
In  dark  retirement  forms  the  lucid  stone. 
The  lively  diamond  drinks  thy  purest  rays, 
Collected  light,  compact ;  that,  polish'd  bright, 
And  all  its  native  lustre  let  abroad, 
Dares,  as  it  sparkles  on  the  fair  one's  breast,  145 

With  vain  ambition  emulate  her  eyes. 
At  thee  the  ruby  lights  its  deepening  glow, 
And  with  a  waving  radiance  inward  flames. 
From  theo  the  sapphire,  solid  ether,  takes 
Its  hue  cerulean;  and,  of  evening  tinct,  150 

The  purple-streaming  amethyst  is  thine. 
With  thy  own  smile  the  yellow  topaz  burns. 
Nor  deeper  verdure  dyes  the  robe  of  Spring, 
When  first  she  gives  it  to  the  southern  gale,  154 

Than  the  green  emerald  shows.     But,  all  combined, 
Thick  through  the  whitening  opal  play  thy  beams ; 
Or,  flying  several  from  its  surface,  form 
A  trembling  variance  of  revolving  hues, 
As  the  site  varies  in  the  gazer's  hand. 

The  very  dead  creation,  from  thy  touch,  160 

Assumes  a  mimic  life.     By  thee  refined, 
In  brighter  mazes  the  relucent  stream 
Plays  o'er  the  mead.     The  precipice  abrupt, 
Projecting  horror  on  the  blacken'd  flood, 
Softens  at  thy  return.     The  desert  joys,  166 

Wildly,  through  all  his  melancholy  bounds. 
Rude  ruins  glitter  ;  and  the  briny  deep, 
Seen  from  some  pointed  promontory's  top, 
Far  to  the  blue  horizon's  utmost  verge, 
Restless,  reflects  a  floating  gleam.     But  this, 
And  all  the  much  transported  Muse  can  sing.. 


*0  SUMMER. 

Arc  to  thy  beauty,  dignity,  and  use, 

Unequal  far,  great  delegated  source 

Of  light,  and  life,  and  grace,  and  joy  below ! 

How  shall  I  then  attempt  to  sing  of  HIM  !  I7fi 

Who,  Light  Himself,  in  uncreated  light 
Invested  deep,  dwells  awfully  retired 
From  mortal  eye  or  angel's  purer  ken  ; 
Whose  single  smile  has,  from  the  first  of  time, 
Fill'd,  overflowing,  all  those  lamps  of  heaven  180 

That  beam  for  ever  through  the  boundless  sky  . 
But,  should  he  hide  his  face,  the'  astonish'd  sun 
And  all  the'  extinguish'd  stars  would  loosening  reel 
Wide  from  their  spheres,  and  Chaos  come  again. 

And  yet  was  every  faltering  tongue  of  Man,        185 
'ALMIGHTY  FATHER!  silent  in  thy  praise; 
Thy  Works  themselves  would  raise  a  general  voice, 
E'en  in  the  depth  of  solitary  woods 
By  human  foot  untrod  ;  proclaim  thy  power, 
And  to  the  choir  celestial  THEE  resound,  13;) 

The'  eternal  cause,  support,  and  end  of  all ! 

To  me  be  Nature's  volume  broad  display'd, 
And  to  peruse  its  all  instructing  page, 
Or,  haply  catching  inspiration  thence, 
Some  easy  passage  raptured  to  translate,  195 

My  sole  delight ;  as  through  the  falling  gloomi 
Pensive  I  stray,  or  with  the  rising  dawn 
On  Fancy's  eagle  wing  excursive  soar. 

Now,  flaming  up  the  heavens,  the  potent  sun 
Melts  into  limpid  air  the  high-raised  clouds,  200 

And  morning  fogs,  that  hover'd  round  the  hills 
In  party-colour'd  bands  ;  till  wide  unveil'd 
The  face  of  Nature  shines,  from  where  earth  seems, 
Far  stretch'd  around,  to  meet  the  bending  sphere. 

Half  in  a  blush  of  clustering  roses  lost,  205 

Dew-dropping  Coolness  to  the  shade  retires ; 
There,  on  the  verdant  turf,  or  flowery  bed, 
By  gelid  founts  and  careless  rills  to  muse 


SUMMER.  41 

While  tyrant  Heat,  dispreading  through  the  sky, 
With  rapid  sway,  his  burning  influence  darts  210 

On  man  arid  beast  and  herb  and  tepid  stream. 

Who  can  unpitying  see  the  flowery  race, 
Shed  by  the  morn,  their  new-flush'd  bloom  resign, 
Before  the  parching  beam  ?  so  fade  the  fair, 
When  fevers  revel  through  their  azure  veins.          215 
But  one,  the  lofty  follower  of  the  sun, 
Sad  when  he  sets,  shuts  up  her  yellow  leaves. 
Drooping  all  night ;  and,  when  he  warm  returns, 
Points  her  enamour'd  bosom  to  his  ray. 

Home,  from  his  morning  task,  the  swain  retreats ; 
His  flock  before  him  stepping  to  the  fold  :  321 

While  the  full-udder'd  mother  lows  around 
The  cheerful  cottage,  then  expecting  food, 
The  food  of  innocence  and  health  !  the  daw, 
The  rook,  and  magpie,  to  the  gray  grown  oaks       225 
That  the  calm  village  in  their  verdant  arms, 
Sheltering,  embrace,  direct  their  lazy  flight : 
Where  on  the  mingling  boughs  they  sit  embower'd, 
All  the  hot  noon,  till  cooler  hours  arise. 
Faint,  underneath,  the  household  fowls  convene  j   230 
And,  in  a  corner  of  the  buzzing  shade, 
The  housedog  with  the  vacant  greyhound  lies, 
Outstretch 'd  and  sleepy.     In  his  slumbers  one 
Attacks  the  nightly  thief,  and  one  exults 
O'er  hill  and  dale  ;  till,  waken'd  by  the  wasp,          235 
They  starting  snap.     Nor  shall  the  Muse  disdain 
To  let  the  little  noisy  summer  race 
Live  in  her  lay,  and  flutter  through  her  song, 
Not  mean  though  simple  ;  to  the  sun  allied, 
From  him  they  draw  their  animating  fire.  240 

Waked  by  his  warmer  ray,  the  reptile  young 
Come  wing'd  abroad  ;  by  the  light  air  upborne, 
Lighter,  and  full  of  soul.     From  every  chink, 
And  secret  corner,  where  they  slept  away 
The  wintry  storms ;  or,  rising  from  their  tombs,     24{ 
4* 


42  SUMMER. 

To  higher  life  ;  by  myrkds,  forth  at  once, 

Swarming  they  pour  ;  of  all  the  varied  hues 

Their  beauty-beaming  parent  can  disclose, 

Ten  thousand  forms,  ten  thousand  different  tribes 

People  the  blaze.     To  sunny  waters  some  250 

By  fatal  instinct  fly  ;  where  on  the  pool 

They  sportive  wheel :  or,  sailing  down  the  stream, 

Are  snatch'd  immediate  by  the  quick-eyed  trout, 

Or  darting  salmon.     Through  the  greenwood  glade 

Some  love  to  stray  ;  there  lodged,  amused,  and  fed, 

In  the  fresh  leaf.     Luxurious,  others  make  2ob 

The  meads  their  choice,  and  visit  every  flower 

And  every  latent  herb  :  for  the  sweet  task, 

To  propagate  their  kinds,  and  where  to  wrap, 

[n  what  soft  beds,  their  young  yet  undisclosed,       260 

Employs  their  tender  care.     Some  to  the  house, 

The  fold,  and  dairy,  hungry,  bend  their  flight ; 

Sip  round  the  pail,  or  taste  the  curdling  cheese  j 

Oft,  inadvertent,  from  the  milky  stream 

They  meet  their  fate  ;  or,  weltering  in  the  bowl,    265 

With  powerless  wings  around  them  wrapp'd,  expire. 

But  chief  to  heedless  flies  the  window  proves 
A  constant  death  ;  where,  gloomily  retired. 
The  villain  spider  lives,  cunning  and  fierce, 
Mixture  abhorr'd  !  amid  a  mangled  heap  270 

Of  carcasses,  in  eager  watch  he  sits, 
O'erlooking  all  his  waving  snares  around. 
Near  the  dire  cell  the  dreadless  wanderer  oft 
Passes,  as  oil  the  ruffian  shows  his  front, 
The  prey  at  last  ensnared,  he  dreadful  darts,  275 

With  rapid  glide,  along  the  leaning  line  ; 
And,  fixing  in  the  wretch  his  cruel  fangs, 
Strikes  backward  grimly  pleased  ;  the  fluttering  wing 
And  shriller  sound  declare  extreme  distress, 
And  ask  the  helping  hospitable  hand.  29<l 

Resounds  the  living  surface  of  the  ground 
Nor  undelightful  is  thu  ceaseless  hum 


SUMMER  43 

To  him  who  muses  through  the  woods  at  noon  ; 
Or  drowsy  shepherd,  as  he  lies  reclined, 
With  half-shut  eyes,  beneath  the  floating  shade       283 
Of  willows  gray,  close  crowding  o'er  the  brook. 

Gradual,  from  these  what  numerous  kinds  descend, 
Evading  e'en  the  microscopic  eye  ! 
Full  Nature  swarms  with  life  ;  one 
Of  animals,  or  atoms  organized,^ 
Waiting"  the  vital  brbatlYrwHeiTparent  Heaven 
Shall  bid  his  spirit  blow.     The  hoary  fen, 
In  putrid  steams,  emits  the  living  cloud 
Of  pestilence.     Through  subterranean  cells, 
Where  searching  sunbeams  scarce  can  find  a  way,  29.r 
Earth  animated  heaves.     The  flowery  leaf 
Wants  not  its  soft  inhabitants.     Secure, 
Within  its  winding  citadel,  the  stone 
Holds  multitudes.     But  chief  the  forest  boughs, 
That  dance  unnumber'd  to  the  playful  breeze, 
The  downy  orchard,  and  the  melting  pulp 
Of  mellow  fruit  the  nameless  nations  feed 
Of  evanescent  insects.     Where  the  pool 
Stands  mantled  o'er  with  green,  invisible, 
Amid  the  floating  verdure  millions  stray. 
Each  liquid  too,  whether  it  pierces,  sooths, 
Inflames,  refreshes,  or  exalts  the  taste, 
With  various  forms  abounds.    Nor  is  the  stream 
Of  purest  crystal,  nor  the  lucid  air, 
Though  one  transparent  vacancy  it.  seems, 
Void  of  their  unseen  people.     These,  conceal'd 
By  the  kind  art  of  forming  Heaven,  escape 
The  grosser  eye  of  man  :  for,  if  the  worlds 
In  worlds  enclosed  should  on  his  senses  burst, 
From  cates  ambrosial,  and  the  nectar'd  bowl 
He  would  abhorrent  turn  :  and  in  dead  night, 
When  silence  sleeps  o'er  all,  be  stunn'd  with  noise 
Let  no    r™  «™'™» 


30t 


302 


310 


315 


In  vain,  or  not  for  admirable 


as  if  ai-M  wnfi  ff"tn>'1 


44  SUMMER 

Snail  little  haughty  Ignorance  pronounce 

His  works  unwise,  of  which  the  smallest  part 

Exceeds  the  narrow  vision  of  her  mind  ? 

As  if  upon  a  full  proportion'd  dome, 

On  swelling  columns  heaved,  the  pride  of  art .'         325 

A  critic-fly,  whose  feeble  ray  scarce  spreads 

An  inch  around,  with  blind  presumption  bold, 

Should  dare  to  tax  the  structure  of  the  whole 

AnrHkaaUheJVlajvAVThooo  unigeisaLfigg. 

Has  g«™j»tjat.  nru^the*  unbounded  schejap-J)£thing«  • 

Mafk'Htheir  dependence  so,  and  firm  accord,          &&T~ 

As^ila  uiifdlldliiig  dCUUlit  to  conclude — 

That  this  availclh  nought  ?  Has  any  seen 

The  mighty  chain  of  beings,  lessening  down 

From  Infinite ;  PerfectiojiJtfiJhj^nrik^^  335 

Of  dreary  nothing,  desolate  abyss  ! 

From  which  astonish'd  thought,  recoiling,  turns  ? 

Till  then  aloneTet^zealous  praise  aMUUd, 

And  hymns  of  holy  wonder  to  that  POWER 

Whose  wisdom  shines  as  lovely  on  our  minds          340 

As  on  our  smiling  eyes  his  servant  sun. 

Thick  in  yon  stream  of  light,  a  thousand  ways, 
Upward  and  downward,  thwarting  and  convolved, 
The  quivering  nations  sport ;  till,  tempest-wing'd, 
Fierce  Winter  sweeps  them  from  the  face  of  day.  345 
E'en  so  luxurious  men,  unheeding,  pass 
An  idle  summer  life  in  fortune's  shine, 
A  season's  glitter  ;  thus  they  flutter  on 
From  toy  to  toy,  from  vanity  to  vice  ; 
Till,  blown  away  by  death,  oblivion  comes  350 

Behind,  and  strikes  them  from  the  book  of  life. 

Now  swarms  the  village  o'er  the  jovial  mead  ; 
The  rustic  youth,  brown  with  meridian  toil, 
Healthful  and  strong  ;  full  as  the  summer  rose 
Blown  by  prevailing  suns,  the  ruddy  maid,  355 

Half  naked,  swelling  on  the  sight,  and  all 
Her  kindled  graces  burning  o'er  her  cheek. 
E  eu  stooping  age  is  here  ;  and  infant  hands 


SUMMER.  45 

Trail  the  long  rake,  or,  with  the  fragrant  load 
O'ercharged,  amid  the  kind  oppression  roll.  360 

Wide  flies  the  tedded  grain ;  all  in  a  row 
Advancing  broad,  or  wheeling  round  the  field, 
They  spread  the  breathing  harvest  to  the  sun, 
That  throws  refreshful  round  a  rural  smell : 
Or,  as  they  rake  the  green-appearing  ground,          3C5 
And  drive  the  dusky  wave  along  the  mead, 
The  russet  haycock  rises  thick  behind, 
In  order  gay.     While  heard  from  dale  to  dale, 
Waking  the  breeze,  resounds  the  blended  voice 
Of  happy  labour,  love,  and  social  glee.  370 

Or  rushing  thence,  in  one  diffusive  band* 
They  drive  the  troubled  flocks,  by  many  a  dog 
Compell'd,  to  where  the  mazy-running  brook 
Forms  a  deep  pool ;  this  bank  abrupt  and  high, 
And  that  fair-spreading  in  a  pebbled  shore.  375 

Urged  to  the  giddy  brink,  much  is  the  toil, 
The  clamour  much,  of  men  and  boys  and  dogs, 
Ere  the  soft  fearful  people  of  the  flood 
Commit  their  woolly  sides.     And  oft  the  swain, 
On  some  impatient  seizing,  hurls  them  in  j  380 

Embolden'd  then,  nor  hesitating  more, 
Fast,  fast  they  plunge  amid  the  flashing  wave, 
And,  panting,  labour  to  the  farthest  shore. 
Repeated  this,  till  deep  the  well  wash'd  fleece 
Has  drunk  the  flood,  and  from  his  lively  haunt        385 
The  trout  is  banish'd  by  the  sordid  stream ; 
Heavy  and  dripping,  to  the  breezy  brow 
Slow  move  the  harmless  race :   where,  as  they  spread 
Their  swelling  treasures  to  the  sunny  ray, 
Inly  disturb'd  and  wondering  what  this  wild  390 

Outrageous  tumult  means,  their  loud  complaints 
The  country  fill ;  and,  toss'd  from  rock  to  rock, 
Incessant  bleatings  run  around  the  hills. 
At  last,  of  snowy  white,  the  gather'd  flocks 
Are  in  the  wattled  pen  innumerous  press'd,  393 

Head  above  head  :  and  ranged  in  lusty  rows 


46  SUMMER. 

The  shepherds  sit,  and  whet  the  sounding  shears. 

The  housewife  waits  to  roll  her  fleecy  stores, 

With  all  her  gay-dress'd  maids  attending  round. 

One.  chief,  in  gracious  dignity  enthroned,  400 

Shines  o'er  the  rest,  the  pastoral  queen,  and  rays 

Her  smiles,  sweet  beaming  on  her  sh^hejaiJujag^ 

While  the  glad  circle  round  them  yTeld  their  souls 

To  festive  mirth,  and  wit  that  knows  no  gall. 

Meantime,  their  joyous  task  goes  on  apace  ;  405 

Some  mingling  stir  the  melted  tar,  and  some, 

Deep  on  the  new-shorn  vagrant's  heaving  side, 

To  stamp  the  master's  cipher  ready  stand  j     » 

Others  the'  unwilling  wether  drag  along  ; 

And,  glorying  in  his  might,  the  sturdy  boy  410 

Holds  by  the  twisted  horns  the'  indignant  ram. 

Behold  where  bound,  and  of  its  robe  bereft, 

By  needy  Man,  that  all-depending  lord, 

How  meek,  how  patient,  the  mild  creature  lies  ! 

What  softness  in  its  melancholy  face,  415 

What  dumb  complaining  innocence  appears  ' 

Fear  not,  ye  gentle  tribes,  'tis  not  the  knife 

Of  horrid  slaughter  that  is  o'er  you  waved  ; 

No,  'tis  the  tender  swain's  well  guided  shears, 

Who  having  now,  to  pay  his  annual  care,  420 

Borrow'd  your  fleece,  to  you  a  cumbrous  load, 

Will  send  you  bounding  to  your  hills  again. 

A  simple  scene  !_y£tJife»ce--Britjmma"seeju. 
Her  solid  grandeur  rise  :  hence  she  command* 
The*  exalted  stores  of  every  brighter  clirne,  425 

The  treasures  of  the  'Sun  without  his  rage  : 
Hence,  fervent  all,  .with  culture,  toil,,  and  arts, 
Wide  glows  her  land  :  her  dreadful  thunder  henco.  . 
Rides  o'er  the  waves  sublime,  and  now,  e'en  now, 
Impending  hangs  o'er  Gallia's  humbled  coast ;        43ti 
Hence  rules  the  circling  deep,  and  awes  the  world. 

'Tis  raging  noon ;  and,  vertical,  the  sun 
Darts  on  the  head  direct  his  forceful  rays. 
O'er  heaven  and  earth,  far  as  the  ranging  eye 


SUMMER.  4/ 

Can  sweep,  a  dazzling  deluge  reigns  ,  and  all          435 
From  pole  to  pole  is  undistiuguish'd  blaze. 
In  vain  the  signt,  dejected,  to  the  ground 
Stoops  for  relief;  thence  hot  ascending  steams 
And  keen  reflection  pain.     Deep  to  the  root 
Of  vegetation  parch'd,  the  cleaving  fields  440 

And  slippery  lawn  an  arid  hue  disclose, 
Blast  Fancy's  bloom,  and  wither  e'en  the  soul. 
Echo  no  more  returns  the  cheerful  sound 
Of  sharpening  scythe  :  the  mower  sinking  heaps 
O'er  him  the  humid  hay,  with  flowers  perfumed ;   445 
And  scarce  a  chirping  grasshopper  is  heard 
Through  the  dumb  mead.     Distressful  Nature  pants. 
The  very  streams  look  languid  from  afar  : 
Or,  through  the'  unshelter'd  glade,  impatient,  seem 
To  hurl  into  the  covert  of  the  grove.  450 

All-conquering  Heat,  oh,  intermit  thy  wrath  ! 
And  on  my  throbbing  temples  potent  thus 
Beam  not  so  fierce  !  incessant  still  you  flow, 
And  still  another  fervent  flood  succeeds, 
Pour'd  on  the  head  profuse.     In  vain  I  sigh,  455 

And  restless  turn,  and  look  around  for  night ; 
Night  is  far  off;  and  hotter  hours  approach. 
Thrice  happy  he  !  who  on  the  sunless  side 
Of  a  romantic  mountain,  forest-crown'd, 
Beneath  the  whole  collected  shade  reclines :  460 

Or  in  the  gelid  caverns,  woodbine-wrought, 
And  fresh  bedew'd  with  ever  spouting  streams, 
Sits  coolly  calm  ;  while  all  the  world  without, 
Unsatisfied,  and  sick,  tosses  in  noon. 
Emblem  instructive  of  the  virtuous  man,  465 

Who  keeps  his  temper'd  mind  serene  and  pure. 
And  every  passion  aptly  harmonized, 
Amid  a  jarring  world  with  vice  inflamed. 

Welcome,  ye  shades  !  ye  bowery  thickets,  hail 
Ye  lofty  pines  !  ye  venera.ble  oaks  !  47tt 

Ye  ashes  wild,  resounding  o'er  the  steep  ! 
Delicious  is  your  shelter  to  the  soul, 


48  SUMMER. 

As  to  the  hunted  hart  the  sallying  spring, 
Or  stream  full  flowing,  that  his  swelling  sides 
Laves,  as  he  floats  along  the  herbaged  brink.  47f 

Cool, through  the  nerves,  your  pleasing  comfort  glides 
The  heart  beats  glad  ;  the  fresh-expanded  eye 
And  car  resume  their  watch  ;  the  sinews  knit ; 
And  life  shoots  swift  through  all  the  lighten'd  limbs 

Around  the1  adjoining  brook,  that  purls  along      486 
The  vocal  grove,  now  fretting  o'er  a  rock, 
Now  scarcely  moving  through  a  reedy  pool, 
Now  starting  to  a  sudden  stream,  and  now 
Gently  diffused  into  a  limpid  plain  ; 
A  various  group  the  herds  and  flocks  compose,        485 
Rural  confusion  !  on  the  grassy  bank 
Some  ruminating  lie  ;  while  others  stand 
Half  in  the  flood,  and  often  bending  sip 
The  circling  surface.     In  the  middle  droops 
The  strong  laborious  ox,  of  honest  front,  490 

Which  incomposed  he  shakes  ;  and  from  his  sides 
The  troublous  insects  lashes  with  his  tail, 
Returning  still.     Amid  his  subjects  sa/e, 
Slumbers  the  monarch  swain :  his  careless  arm 
Thrown  round  his  head,  on  downy  moss  sustain'd  ;  495 
Here  laid  his  scrip,  with  wholesome  viands  fill'd ; 
There,  listening  every  noise,  his  watchful  dog. 

Light  fly  his  slumbers,  if  perchance  a  flight 
Of  angry  gadflies  fasten  on  the  herd  ; 
That  startling  scatters  from  the  shallow  brook,        500 
In  search  of  lavish  stream.     Tossing  the  foam, 
They  scorn  the  keeper's  voice,  and  scour  the  plain, 
Through  all  the  bright  severity  of  noon  ; 
While,  from  their  labouring  breasts,  a  hollow  moan, 
Proceeding,  runs  low-bellowing  round  the  hills.      505 

Oft  in  this  season  too  the  horse,  provoked, 
While  his  big  sinews  full  of  spirits  swell, 
Trembling  with  vigour,  in  the  heat  of  blood, 
Springs  the  high  fence  ;  and,  o'er  the  field  effused, 
Darts  on  the  gloomy  flood,  with  steadfast  eye,        510 


SUMMER.  49 

And  heart  estranged  to  fear  :  his  nerve  us  chest, 

Luxuriant,  and  erect,  the  seat  of  strength  ! 

Bears  down  the'  opposing  stream :  quenchless  his  thirsl 

He  takes  the  river  at  redoubled  draughts  ; 

And  with  wide  nostril,  snorting,  skims  the  wave.    515 

Still  let  me  pierce  into  the  midnight  depth 
Of  yonder  grove,  of  wildest  largest  growth  : 
That,  forming  high  in  air  a  woodland  choir, 
Nods  o'er  the  mount  beneath.     At  every  step, 
Solemn  and  slow,  the  shadows  blacker  fall,  520 

And  all  is  awful  listening  gloom  around. 

These  are  the  haunts  of  Meditation,  these  \y 

The  scenes  where  ancient  bards  the'  inspirfhg  breath, 
Ecstatic,  felt ;  and,  from  this  world  retired, 
Conversed  *vith  angels  and  immortal  forms,  52? 

On  gracious  errands  bent :  to  save  the  fall 
Of  virtue  struggling  on  the  b'rinR  of  vice"*  * 
In  waking  whispers,^^Te"pelLten'1Trea"nis,"" 
To  hint  pure  thought,  and  warn  the  favour'd  soul 
For  future  trials  fated  to  prepare  ;  53C 

To  prompt  the  poet,  who  devoted  gives 
His  muse  to  better  themes  ;  to  sooth  the  pangs 
Of  dying  worth,  and  from  the  patriot  s  breast 
(Backward  to  mingle  in  detested  war, 
But  foremost  when  engaged)  to  turn  ihe  death ;     535 
And  numberless  such  offices  of  love, 
Daily  and  nightly,  zealous  to  perform. 

Shook  sudden  from  the  bosom  of  the  sky, 
A  thousand  shapes  cr  glide  athwart  the  dusk,  ^  \ 

Or  stalk  majestic  on.     Deep  roused,  I  feel  54€  ^  - 

A  sacred  terror,  a  severe  delight 

Creep  through  my  mortal  frame ;  and  thus,  methinks, 
A  voice,  than  human  more,  the'  abstracted  ear 
Of  fancy  strikes  : — "  Be  not  of  us  afraid, 
Fcor  kindred  .man  !  thy  felJow-rrrrrtrtrrs.  we  545 

From  the  same  Parent  Power  our  beings  drew, 
The  same  our  Lord  and  laws  and  great  pursuit, 
Onco  some  of  us,  like  thee,  through  stormy  life 
5 


50  SUMMER. 

ToilJLiflmpggt-befcten,  ere  we  could  attain 

This  holy  calm,  this  harmony  of  mind,  550 

Where  purity  and  peace  iminiii^le  charms. 

Then  fear  not  us  ;  but  with  responsive  song 

Amid  these  dim  recesses,  undisturb'd 

By  noisy  folly  and  discordant  vice^ 

Of  Natuxo^sing-wjtH js^jand  .Nature's  GOD.  555 

Here  frequent,  at  the  visionary  hour, 

When  musing  midnight  reigns  or  silent  noon, 

Angelic  harps  are  in  full  concert  heard, 

And  voices  chanting  from  the  wood-crown 'd  hill, 

The  deepening  dale,  or  inmost  silvan  glade  :  560 

A  privilege  %estow'd  by  us,  alone, 

On  Contemplation,  or  the  hallow'd  ear 

Of  poet,  swelling  to  seraphic  strain." 

And  art  thou,  Stanley,*  of  that  srcred  band, 
Alas,  for  us  too  soon  !  though  raised  above  565 

The  reach  of  human  pain,  above  the  flight 
Of  human  joy  ;  yet,  with  a  mingled  ray 
Of  sadly  pleased  remembrance,  must  thou  feel 
A  mother's  love,  a  mother's  tender  woe  : 
Who  seeks  thee  still  in  many  a  former  scene  ;         570 
Seeks  thy  fair  form,  thy  lovely  beaming  eyes, 
Thy  pleasing  converse,  by  gay  lively  sense 
Inspired  :  where  mortal  wisdom  mildly  shone, 
Without  the  toil  of  art ;  and  virtue  glow'd, 
In  all  her  smiles,  without  forbidding  pride.  575 

But,  O  thou  best  of  parents  !  wipe  thy  tears ; 
Or  rather  to  Parental  Nature  pay 
The  tears  of  grateful  joy,  who  for  awhile 
Lent  thee  this  younger  self,  this  opening  bloom 
Of  thy  enlightened  mind  and  gentle  worth.  580 

Believe  the  Muse  :  the  wintry  blast  of  death 
Kills  not  the  buds  of  virtue  ;  no,  they  spread, 
Beneath  the  heavenly  beam  of  brighter  suns, 
Through  endless  ages,  into  higher  powers. 

*  A  young  lady,  who  died  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  IF  tivj 
year  1V38,  upon  whom  Thompson  wrote  an  epitaph. 


SUMMER.  5i 

Thus  up  the  mount,  in  airy  vision  wrapp'd,         585 
1  stray,  regardless  whither;  till  the  sound 
Of  a  near  fall  of  water  every  sense 
Wakes  from  the  charm  of  thought:  swift  shrinking  back, 
1  check  my  steps,  and  view  the  broken  scene. 

Smooth  to  the  shelving  brink  a  copious  flood       500 
Rolls  fair  and  placid  ;  where,  collected  all 
In  one  impetuous  torrent,  down  the  steep 
It  thundering  shoots,  and  shakes  the  country  round. 
At  first  an  azure  sheet,  it  rushes  broad  ; 
Then  whitening  by  degrees,  as  prone  it  falls,  595 

And  from  the  loud-resounding  rocks  below 
Dash'd  in  a  cloud  of  foam,  it  sends  aloft 
A  hoary  mist,  and  forms  a  ceaseless  shower. 
Nor  can  the  tortured  wave  here  find  repose : 
But,  raging  still  amid  the  shaggy  rocks,  600 

Now  flashes  o'er  the  scatter'd  fragments,  now 
Aslant  the  hollow  channel  rapid  darts  ; 
And,  falling  fast  from  gradual  slope  to  slope, 
With  wild  infracted  course  and  lessen'd  roar, 
It  gains  a  safer  bed,  and  steals,  at  last,  605 

Along  the  mazes  of  the  quiet  vale. 

Invited  from  the  cliff,  to  whose  dark  brow 
He  clings,  the  steep-ascending  eagle  soars, 
With  upward  pinions,  through  the  flood  of  day 
And,  giving  full  his  bosom  to  the  blaze,  610 

Gains  on  the  sun  ;  while  all  the  tuneful  race, 
Smit  by  afflictive  noon,  disorder'd  droop, 
Deep  in  the  thicket ;  or,  from  bower  to  bower 
Responsive,  force  an  interrupted  strain. 
The  stockdove  only  through  the  forest  coos,  615 

Mournfully  hoarse  ;  oft  ceasing  from  his  plaint, 
Short  interval  of  weary  woe  !  again 
The  sad  idea  of  his  murder'd  mate, 
Struck  from  his  side  by  savage  fowler's  guile, 
Across  his  fancy  comes  ;  and  then  resounds  620 

A  louder  song  of  sorrow  through  the  grove 

Beside  the  dewy  border  let  me  sit, 


52  SUMMER. 

All  in  the  freshness  of  the  humid  air  : 

There  in  that  hollow'd  rock,  grotesque  and  wild, 

An  ample  chair  moss-lined,  and  over  he*ul  625 

By  flowering  umbrage  shaded  ;  where  the  bee 

Strays  diligent,  and  with  the'  extracted  balm 

Of  fragrant  woodbine  loads  his  little  thigh. 

Now,  while  I  taste  the  sweetness  of  the  shade, 
While  Nature  lies  around  deep  lull'd  in  noon  63C 

Now  come,  bold  Fancy,  spread  a  daring  flight, 
And  view  the  wonders  of  the  torrid  zone  : 
Climes  unrelenting  1  with  whose  rage  compared, 
Yon  blaze  is  feeble,  and  yon  skies  are  cool. 

See,  how  at  once  the  bright  effulgent  sun,  635 

Rising  direct,  swift  chases  from  the  sky 
The  short-lived  twilight :  and  with  ardent  blaze 
Looks  gaily  fierce  through  all  the  dazzling  air  : 
He  mounts  his  throne  ;  but  kind  before  him  sends, 
Issuing  from  out  the  portals  of  the  morn,  G43 

The  general  breeze,*  to  mitigate  his  fire, 
And  breathe  refreshment  on  a  fainting  world. 
Great  are  the  scenes,  with  dreadful  beauty  crown'd 
And  barbarous  wealth,  that  see,  each  circling  year, 
Returning  suns  and  double  seasons}  pass  :  645 

Rocks  rich  in  gems,  and  mountains  big  with  mines, 
That  on  the  high  equator  ridgy  rise, 
Whence  many  a  bursting  stream  auriferous  plays  : 
Majestic  woods,  of  every  vigorous  green, 
Stage  above  stage,  high  waving  o'er  the  hills  ;        650 
Or,  to  th3  far  horizon  wide  diffused, 
A  boundless  deep  immensity  of  shade. 
Here  lofty  trees,  to  ancient  song  unknown, 
The  noble  sons  of  pofent  heat  and  floods, 

*  Which  blows  constantly  between  the  tropics  from  the 
east,  or  the  collateral  points,  the  north-east  and  south-east: 
caused  by  the  pressure  of  the  rarefied  air  on  that  More  it, 
according  to  the  diurnal  motion  of  the  sun  from  east  to  we.7t. 

t  In  all  climates  between  the  tropics,  the  sun,  as  he  passes 
and  r^passes  in  his  annual  motion,  is  twice  a  year  vertical, 
ivhich  produces  this  enect. 


SUMMER.  53 

Prone-rushing1  from  the  clouds,  rear  high  to  heaven  G5f 
Their  thorny  steins,  and  broad  around  them  thow 
Meridian  gloom.     Here,  in  eternal  prime, 
Urmurnber'd  fruits,  of  keen  delicious  taste 
And  vital  spirit,  drink  amid  the  dills, 
And  burning  sands  that  bank  the  shrubby  vales,      660 
Redoubled  day,  yet  in  their  rugged  coats 
A  friendly  juice  to  cool  its  rage  contain. 

Bear  rne,  Pomona  !  to  thy  citron  groves  ; 
To  where  the  lemon  and  the  piercing  lime, 
With  the  deep  orange,  glowing  through  the  gresn,  665 
Their  lighter  glories  blend.     Lay  me  reclined 
Beneath  the  spreading  tamarind  that  shakes, 
Fann'd  by  the  breeze,  its  fever  cooling  fruit. 
Deep  in  the  night  the  massy  locust  sheds, 
Quench  my  hot  limbs  ;  or  lead  me  through  the  maze, 
Embowering  endless,  of  the  Indian  fig  ;  671 

Or,  thrown  at  gayer  ease,  on  some  fair  brow, 
Let  nie  behold,  by  breezy  murmurs  cool'd, 
Broad  o'er  rny  head  the  verdant  cedar  wave, 
And  high  pahnetos  lift  their  graceful  shade.  675 

Or,  stretch'd  amid  these  orchards  of  the  sun, 
Give  me  to  drain  the  cocoa's  milky  bowl, 
And  from  the  palrn  to  draw  its  freshening  wine  1 
More  bounteous  far  than  all  the  frantic  juice 
Which  Bacchus  pours.     Nor,  on  its  slender  twigs  680 
Low  bending,  be  the  full  pomegranate  scorn'd ; 
Nor,  creeping  through  the  woods,  the  gelid  race 
Of  berries.     QfjLin  humble  station  dwellft 
Unboaatful  worth,  above  fastidious  pomp. 
Witness,  thoutiest  Anana,  thou  the  pride  686 

Of  vegetable  life,  beyond  whate'er 
The  poets  imaged  in  the  golden  ago  : 
Quick  let  me  strip  thee  of  thy  tufty  coat, 
Spread  thy  ambrosial  stores;  and  feast  with  Jove  ! 

From  these  the  prospect  varies.     Plains  immense 
Lie  stretch'd  below,  interminable  meads,  691 

And  vast  savannahs,  where  the  wandering  eye, 
6* 


54  SUMMER. 

Unfix'd,  is  in  a  verdant  ocean  lost. 

Another  Flora  there,  of  bolder  hues, 

And  richer  sweets,  beyond  our  garden's  pride,         695 

Plays  o'er  the  fields,  and  showers  with  sudden  hand 

Exuberant  spring  :  for  oft  these  valleys  shift 

Their  green-embroider'd  robe  to  fiery  brown, 

And  swift  to  green  again,  as  scorching  suns, 

Or  streaming  dews  and  torrent  rains,  prevail.          700 

Along  these  lonely  regions,  where,  retired 
From  little  scenes  of  art,  great  Nature  dwells 
In  awful  solitude,  and  nought  is  seen 
But  the  wild  herds  that  own  no  master  s  stall, 
Prodigious  rivers  roll  their  fattening  seas  :  705 

On  whose  luxuriant  herbage,  half  conceal'd, 
Like  a  fallen  cedar,  far  diffused  his  train, 
Cased  in  green  scales,  the  crocodile  extends. 
The  flood  disparts  :  behold  !  in  plaited  mail, 
Behemoth*  rears  his  head.    Glanced  from  his  side,  710 
The  darted  steel  in  idle  shivers  flies : 
He  fearless  walks  the  plain,  or  seeks  the  hills ; 
Where,  as  he  crops  his  varied  fare,  the  herds, 
In  widening  circle  round,  forget  their  food, 
And  at  the  harmless  stranger  wondering  gaze.        715 

Peaceful  beneath  primeval  trees,  that  cast 
Their  ample  shade  o'er  Niger's  yellow  stream, 
And  where  the  Ganges  rolls  his  sacred  wave  ; 
Or.  mid  the  central  depth  of  blackening  woods, 
H:gh  raised  in  solemn  theatre  around,  720 

Leans  the  huge  elephant :  wisest  of  brutes  ! 
O  truly  wise  !  with  gentle  might  endow'd, 
Though  powerful,  not  destructive  !  here  he  sees 
Revolving  ages  sweep  the  changeful  earth, 
And  empires  rise  and  fall ;  regardless  he  725 

Of  what  the  never  resting  race  of  men 
Project :  thrice  happy  !  cculd  he  scape  their  guile, 
Who  mine,  from  cruel  avarice,  his  steps  ; 
Or  with  his  towery  grandeur  swell  their  state, 
*  The  Hippopotamus,  or  river-horse 


SUMMER.  55 

The  pride  of  kings!  or  else  his  strength  pervert,    730 
And  bid  him  rage  amid  the  mortal  fray, 
Astonish'd  at  the  madness  of  mankind. 

Wide  o'er  the  winding  umbrage  of  the  floods, 
Like  vivid  blossoms  glowing  from  afar, 
Thick  swarm  the  brighter  birds.     For  Nature's  hand, 
That  with  a  sportive  vanity  has  deck'd  736 

The  plumy  nations,  there  hei  gayest  hues 
Profusely  pours*     But  if  she  bids  them  shine 
Array 'd  in  all  the  beauteous  beams  of  day, 
Yet  frugal  still,  she  humbles  them  in  song.  74C 

Nor  envy  we  the  gaudy  robes  they  lent 
Proud  Montezuma's  realm,  whose  legions  cast 
A  boundless  radiance  waving  on  the  sun, 
While  Philomel  is  ours ;  while  in  our  shades, 
Through  the  soft  silence  of  the  listening  night,       745 
The  sober-suited  songstress  trills  her  lay. 

But  come,  my  Muse,  the  desert-barrier  burst, 
A  wild  expanse  of  lifeless  sand  and  sky  : 
And,  swifter  than  the  toiling  caravan, 
Shoot  o'er  the  vale  of  Sennar  ;  ardent  climb  750 

The  Nubian  mountains,  and  the  secret  bounds 
Of  jealous  Abyssinia  boldly  pierce. 
Thou  art  no  ruffian,  who  beneath  the  mask 
Of  social  commerce  comest  to  rob  their  wealth  ; 
No  holy  fury  thou  blaspheming  Heaven,  755 

With  consecrated  steel  to  stab  their  peace, 
And  through  the  land,  yet  red  from  civil  wounds, 
To  spread  the  purple  tyranny  of  Rome. 
Thou,  like  the  harmless  bee,  mayst  freely  range 
From  mead  to  mead  bright  with  exalted  flowers,     760 
From  jasmine  grove  to  grove  mayst  wander  gay 
Through. palmy  shades  and  aromatic  woods, 
That  grace  the  plains,  invest  the  peopled  hills, 
And  up  the  more  than  Alpine  mountains  wave 

*  In  all  the  regions  of  the  torrid  zone,  the  birds,  though 
more  beautiful  in  theiv  plumage,  are  observed  to  be  less  me 
lodious  than  ours. 


56  SUMMER. 

There  on  the  breezy  summit,  spreading  fair,  765 

For  many  a  league  ;  or  on  stupendous  rocks, 

That  from  the  sun-redoubling  valley  lift, 

Cool  to  the  middle  air,  their  lawny  tops  ; 

Where  palaces  and  fanes  and  villas  rise  , 

And  gardens  smile  around,  and  cultured  fields  ;       77) 

And  fountains  gush ;  and  careless  herds  and  flocks 

Securely  stray  ;  a  world  within  itself, 

Disdaining  all  assault :  there  let  me  draw 

Ethereal  soul,  there  drink  reviving  gales, 

Profusely  breathing  from  the  spicy  groves  775 

And  vales  of  fragrance  ;  there  at  distance  hear 

The  roaring  floods,  and  cataracts,  that  sweep 

From  disembowel'd  earth  the  virgin  gold  ; 

And  o'er  the  varied  landscape,  restless,  rove, 

Fervent  with  life  of  every  fairer  kind  :  780 

A  land  of  wonders !  which  the  sun  still  eyes 

With  ray  direct,  as  of  the  lovely  realm 

Knamour'd,  p.nd  delighting  there  to  dwell. 

How  changed  the  scene  !  in  blazing  height  of  noon, 
The  sun,  oppress'd,  is  plunged  in  thickest  gloom.   785 
Still  horror  reigns,  a  dreary  twilight  round, 
Of  struggling  night  and  day  malignant  mix'd. 
For  to  the  hot  equator  crowding  fast, 
Where,  highly  rarefied,  the  yielding  air 
Admits  their  stream,  incessant  vapours  roll,  790 

Amazing  clouds  on  clo'ids  continual  heap'd ; 
Or  whirl'd  tempestuous  by  the  gusty  wind, 
Or  silent  borne  along,  hv,avy,  and  slow, 
With  the  big  stores  of  steaming  oceans  charged 
Meantime,  amid  these  upper  seas,  condensed  795 

Around  the  cold  aerial  mountain's  brow, 
And  bv  conflicting  winds  together  dash'd, 
The  Thunder  holds  his  bla^k  tremendous  throne  , 
From  cloud  to  cloud  the  rending  lightnings  rage  ; 
Till,  in  the  furious  elemental  war  800 

Dissolved,  the  whole  precipitated  mass 
Unbroken  floods  and  solid  torrents  pours. 


SUMMER.  57 

The  treasures  these,  hid  from  the  bounded  search 
Of  ancient  knowledge  ;  whence,  with  annual  pomp, 
Rich  king  of  floods  !  o'erllows  the  swelling  Nile.     805 
From  his  two  springs,  in  Gojam  s  sunny  realm, 
Pure-welling  out,  he  through  the  lucid  lake 
Of  fair  Dambea  rolls  his  infant  stream. 
There,  by  the  naiads  nursed,  he  sports  away 
His  playful  youth  amid  the  fragrant  isles,  810 

That  with  unfading  verdure  smile  around 
Ambitious  thence  the  manly  river  breaks  ; 
And,  gathering  many  a  flood,  and  copious  fed 
With  all  the  mellow'd  treasures  of  the  sky, 
Winds  in  progressive  majesty  along  :  815 

Through  splendid  kingdoms  now  devolves  his  maze, 
Now  wanders  wild  o'er  solitary  tracts 
Of  life-deserted  sand  ;  till,  glad  to  quit 
The  joyless  desert,  down  the  Nubian  rocks, 
From  thundering  steep  to  steep,  he  pours  his  urn,  620 
And  Egypt  joys  beneath  the  spreading  wave. 

His  brother  Niger  too,  and  all  the  floods 
In  which  the  full  form'd  maids  of  Afric  lave 
Their  jetty  limbs  ;  and  all  that  from  the  tract 
Of  woody  mountains  stretch'd  through  gorgeous  Ind 
Fall  on  Cormandel's  coast,  or  Malabar  ;  826 

From  Menam's*  orient  stream,  that  nightly  shines 
With  insect  lamps,  to  where  Aurora  sheds 
On  Indus'  smiling  banks  the  rosy  shower: 
All,  at  this  bounteous  season,  ope  their  urns,  830 

And  pour  untoiling  harvest  o'er  the  land. 

Nor  less  thy  world,  Columbus,  drinks,  refresh 'd, 
The  lavish  moisture  of  the  melting  year. 
Wide  o'er  his  isles  the  branching  Oronoque 
Rolls  a  brown  deluge  ;  and  the  native  drives  535 

To  dwell  aloft  on  life  sufficing  trees, 
At  once  his  dome,  his  robe,  his  food,  and  arms 

*  The  river  that  runs  through  Siam  ;  on  whose  banks  a  vaat 
multitude  of  those  insects  called  Fire  Flies  make  a  beautiful 
appearance  in  the  night. 


58  SUMMER. 

Swell'd  by  a  thousand  streams,  impetuous  hurl'd 

From  all  the  roaring  Andes,  huge  descends 

The  mighty  Orellana.*     Scarce  the  muse  840 

Dares  stretch  her  wing  o'er  this  enormous  mass 

Of  rushing  water  ;  scarce  she  dares  attempt 

The  sealike  Plata  ;  to  whose  dread  expanse, 

Continuous  depth,  and  wondrous  length  ol'  course 

Our  floods  are  rills.     With  unabated  force,  845 

In  silent  dignity  they  sweep  along, 

And  traverse  realms  unknown,  and  blooming  wilds, 

And  fruitful  Jeserts,  worlds  of  solitude, 

Where  the  sun  smiles  and  seasons  teem  in  vain, 

Unseen  and  unenjoy'd.     Forsaking  these,  850 

O'er  peopled  plains  they  fair  diffusive  flow, 

And  many  a  nation  feed,  and  circle  safe, 

In  their  soft  bosom,  many  a  happy  isle  ; 

The  seat  of  blameless  Pan,  yet  undisturb'd 

By  Christian  crimes  and  Europe's  cruel  sons.          855 

Thus  pouring  on  they  proudly  seek  the  deep, 

Whose  vanquished  tide,  recoiling  from  the  shock, 

Yields  to  the  liquid  weight  of  half  the  globe  j 

And  Ocean  trembles  for  his  green  domain. 

But  what  avails  this  wondrous  waste  of  wealth  f 
This  gay  profusion  of  luxurious  bliss  ?  8fil 

This  pomp  of  Nature  ?  what  their  balmy  meads, 
Their  powerful  herbs,  and  Ceres  void  of  pain? 
By  vagrant  birds  dispersed,  and  wafting  winds, 
What  their  unplanted  fruits?  what  the  cool  draughts, 
The'  ambrosial  food,  rich  gums,  and  spicy  health   tiCG 
Their  forests  yield  ?  their  toiling  insects  what, 
Their  silky  pride,  and  vegetable  robes  ? 
Ah  !  what  avail  their  fatal  treasures  hid 
Deep  in  the  bowels  of  the  pitying  earth,  870 

Golconda's  gems,  and  sad  Potosi's  mines  ; 
Where  dwelt  the  gentlest  children  of  the  sun! 
What  all  that  Afric's  golden  rivers  roll, 
Her  odorous  woods,  and  shining  ivory  stores  ? 
*  The  river  of  the  Amazons. 


SUMMER.  59 

111  fated  race  !  the  softening  arts  of  Peace,  87 

Whate'er  the  humanizing  Muses  teach ; 
The  godlike  wisdom  of  the  temper'd  breast ; 
Progressive  truth,  the  patient  force  of  thought  J 
Investigation  calm,  whose  silent  powers 
Command  the  world  ;  the  light  that  leads  to  heaven  J 
Kind  equal  rule,  the  government  of  laws,  881 

And  all-protecting  Freedom,  which  alone 
Sustains  the  name  and  dignity  of  man  : 
These  are  not  theirs.     The  parent  sun  himself 
Seems  o'er  this  world  of  slaves  to  tyrannise  ;  885 

And,  with  oppressive  ray,  the  roseate  bloom 
Of  beauty  blasting,  gives  the  gloomy  hue, 
And  feature  gross  :  or  worse,  to  ruthless  deeds, 
Mad  jealousy,  blind  rage,  and  fell  revenge, 
Their  fervid  spirit  fires.     Love  dwells  not  there,    890 
The  soft  regards,  the  tenderness  of  life, 
The  heart-shed  tear,  the'  ineffable  delight 
Of  sweet  humanity  :  these  court  the  beam 
Of  milder  climes  ;  in  selfish  fierce  desire, 
And  the  wild  fury  of  voluptuous  sense,  895 

There  lost.     The  very  brute  creation  there 
This  rage  partakes,  and  burns  with  horrid  fire. 
Lo  !  the  green  serpent,  from  his  dark  abode, 
Which  even  Imagination  fears  to  tread, 
At  noon  forth  issuing,  gathers  up  his  train  900 

In  orbs  immense,  then,  darting  out  anew, 
Seeks  the  refreshing  fount ;  by  which  diffused, 
Rethrows  his  folds:  and  while,  with  threatening  tongue, 
And  deathful  jaws  erect,  the  monster  curls 
His  flaming  crest,  all  other  thirst  appall'd,  905 

Or  shivering  flies,  or  check'd  at  distance  stands, 
Nor  dares  approach.     But  still  more  direful  he, 
The  small  close-lurking  minister  of  fato, 
Whose  high-concocted  venom  through  the  veins 
A  rapid  lightning  darts,  arresting  swift  910 

The  vital  current.     Form'd  to  humble  man, 
This  child  of  vengeful  nature  !  there,  sublimed 


60  SUMMER. 

To  fearless  lust  of  blood,  the  savage  race 
Roam,  licensed  by  the  shading  hour  of  guilt, 
And  fou\  misdeed,  when  the  pure  day  has  shut        915 
His  sacred  eye.     The  tiger  darting  fierce 
Impetuous  on  the  prey  his  glance  has  doom'd : 
The  lively  shining  leopard,  speckled  o'er 
With  many  a  spot,  the  beauty  of  the  waste  j 
And,  scorning  all  the  taming  arts  of  man,  920 

The  keen  hyena,  fellest  of  the  fell. 
These,  rushing  from  the'  inhospitable  woods 
Of  Mauritania,  or  the  tufted  isles 
That  verdant  rise  amid  the  Libyan  wild, 
Innumerous  glare  around  their  shaggy  king,  925 

Majestic,  stalking  o'er  the  printed  sand  ; 
And,  with  imperious  and  repeated  roars, 
Demand  their  fated  food.     The  fearful  flocks 
Crowd  near  the  guardian  swain  ;  the  nobler  heids, 
Where  round  their  lordly  bull,  in  rural  ease 
They  ruminating  He,  with  horror  hear 
The  coming  rage.     The'  awaken'd  village  start*  ; 
And  to  her  fluttering  breast  the  mother  strains 
Her  thoughtless  infant.     From  the  pirate's  den, 
Or  stern  Morocca's  tyrant  fang  escaped,  035 

The  wretch  half  wishes  for  his  bonds  again : 
While,  uproar  all,  the  wilderness  resounds, 
From  Atlas  eastward  to  the  frighted  Nile. 
U^appjjiejwho  from  the  first  ofjpv_s, 
Society  cuToflTis  ttft  1UWJL "" 
Amid  this^wjaJi^Wfiatk     Day  after  day, 
Sad  on  the  jutting  eminence  he  sits, 
And  views  the  main  that  ever  toils  below  ; 
Still  fondly  forming  in  the  farthest  vergo, 
Where  the  round  ether  mixes  with  the  wave, 
Ships,  dim-discover'd,  dropping  from  the  clouds, 
At  evening,  to  the  setting  sun  he  turns 
A  mournful  eye,  and  down  his  dying  heart 
Sinks  helpless  ;  while  the  wonted  roar  is  up, 
And  hiss  continual  through  the  tedious  night.         P50 


SUMMER.  61 

Yet  hero,  e'en  here,  into  these  black  abodes 
Of  monsters,  unappall'd,  from  stooping  Rome, 
And  guilty  Caesar,  Liberty  retired, 
Her  Cato  following  through  Numidian  wilds  • 
Disdainful  of  Campania's  gentle  plains,  955 

And  all  the  green  delights  Ausonia  pours ; 
When  for  them  she  must  bend  the  servile  knee, 
And  fawning  take  the  splendid  robber's  boon. 

Nor  stop  the  terrors  of  these  regions  here. 
Commission'd  demons  oft,  angels  of  wrath,  9CO 

Let  loose  the  raging  elements.     Breathed  hot 
From  all  the  boundless  furnace  of  the  sky, 
And  the  wide  glittering  waste  of  burning  sand, 
A  suffocating  wind  the  pilgrim  smites 
With  instant  death.     Patient  of  thirst  and  toil,         965 
Son  of  the  desert !  even  the  camel  feels, 
Shot  through  his  wither'd  heart,  the  fiery  blast. 
Or  from  the  black-red  ether,  bursting  broad, 
Sallies  the  sudden  whirlwind.     Straight  the  sands, 
Commoved  around,  in  gathering  eddies  play :          970 
Nearer  and  nearer  still  they  darkening  come  ; 
Till,  with  the  general  all-involving  storm 
Swept  up,  the  whole  continuous  wilds  aiise  , 
And  by  their  noonday  fount  dejected  thrown, 
Or  sunk  at  night  in  sad  disastrous  sleep,  975 

Beneath  descending  hills,  the  caravan 
Is  buried  deep.     In  Cairo's  crowded  streets 
The'  impatient  merchant,  wondering,  waits  in  vain, 
And  Mecca  saddens  at  the  long  delay. 

But  chief  at  sea,  whose  every  flexile  wave  980 

Obeys  the  blast,  the'  aerial  tumult  swells. 
In  the  dread  ocean,  undulating  wide, 
Beneath  the  radiant  line  that  girts  the  globe, 
The  circling  Typhon*  whirl'd  from  point  to  point, 
Exhausting  all  the  rage  of  all  the  sky,  985 

And  dire  Ecnephia*  reign.     Amid  the  heavens, 

*  Typhon  and  "Ecnephia,  names  of  particular  storms  or  hur- 
ncanes,  known  only  between  the  tropics. 
6 


62  SUMMER. 

Falsely  serene,  deep  in  a  cloudy  speck* 

Compress'd,  the  mighty  tempest  brooding  dwells 

Of  no  regard,  save  to  the  skilful  eye, 

Fiery  and  foul,  the  small  prognostic  hangg  990 

Aloft,  or  on  the  promontory's  brow 

Musters  its  force.     A  faint  deceitful  calm, 

A  fluttering  gale,  the  demon  sends  before, 

To  tempt  the  spreading  sail.     Then  down  at  once, 

Precipitant,  descends  a  mingled  mass  995 

Of  roaring  winds  and  flame  and  rushing  floods. 

In  wild  amazement  fix'd  the  sailor  stands. 

Art  is  too  slow  :  by  rapid  fate  oppress'd, 

His  broad-wing'd  vessel  drinks  the  whelming  tide, 

Hid  in  the  bosom  of  the  black  abyss.  1000 

With  such  mad  seas  the  daring  Gamat  fought, 

For  many  a  day,  and  many  a  dreadful  night, 

Incessant,  labouring  round  the  stormy  Cape  ; 

By  bold  ambition  led,  and  bolder  thirst 

Of  gold.     For  then  from  ancient  gloom  emerged  1005 

The  rising  world  of  trade  :  the  Genius,  then, 

Of  navigation,  that,  in  hopeless  sloth, 

Had  slumber'd  on  the  vast  Atlantic  deep, 

For  idle  ages,  starting,  heard  at  last 

The  Lusitanian  Prince  ;t  who,  Heaven-inspired,  1010 

To  love  of  useful  glory  roused  mankind, 

And  in  unbounded  commerce  mix'd  the  world. 

Increasing  still  the  terrors  of  these  storms, 
His  jaws  horrific  arm'd  with  threefold  fate, 
Here  dwells  the  direful  shark.  Lured  by  the  scent  1015 
Of  steaming  crowds,  of  rank  disease,  and  death, 
Behold  !  he  rushing  cuts  the  briny  flood, 

*  Called  by  sailors  the  Ox-eye,  being  in  appearance  at  first 
no  bigger. 

t  Vasco  de  Garna,  the  first  who  sailed  round  Africa  by  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope,  to  the  East  Indies. 

}  Don  Henry,  third  son  to  John  the  First,  King  of  Portugal. 
His  strong  genius  to  the  discovery  of  new  countries  was  the 
chi^f  source  of  all  thr  modern  improvements  of  navigation. 


SUMMER.  63 

Bwifl  as  the  gale  can  bear  the  ship  along , 

And,  from  the  partners  of  that  cruel  trade 

Which  spoils  unhappy  Guinea  of  her  sons,  1020 

Demands  his  share  of  prey  ;  demands  themselves. 

T.he  stormy  fates  descend  :  one  death  involves 

Tyrants  and  slaves;  when  straight,  their  mangled  jimbs 

Crashing  at  once,  he  dyes  the  purple  seas 

With  gore,  and  riots  in  the  vengeful  meal.  102E 

When  o'er  this  world,  by  equinoctial  rains 
Flooded  immense,  looks  out  the  joyless  sun, 
And  draws  the  copious  steam ;  from  swampy  fens, 
Where  putrefaction  into  life  ferments, 
And  breathes  destructive  myriads:  or  from  woods,  1030 
Impenetrable  shades,  recesses  foul, 
In  vapours  rank  and  blue  corruption  wrapp'd, 
Whose  gloomy  horrors  yet  no  desperate  foot 
Has  ever  dared  ta'pierce  ;  then,  wasteful,  forth 
Walks  the  dire  Power  of  pestilent  disease.  1035 

A  thousand  hideous  fiends  her  course  attend, 
Sick  Nature  blasting,  and  to  heartless  woe, 
And  feeble  desolation,  casting  down 
The  towering  hopes  and  all  the  pride  of  Man. 
Such  as,  of  late,  at  Carthagena  quench'd  1040 

The  British  fire.     You,  gallant  Vernon,  saw 
The  miserable  scene  ;  you,  pitying,  saw 
To  infant  weakness  sunk  the  warrior's  arm  , 
Saw  the  deep-racking  pang,  the  ghastly  form, 
The  lip  pale-quivering,  and  the  beamless  eye        1045 
No  more  with  ardour  bright :  you  heard  the  groans 
Of  agonizing  ships  from  shore  to  shore ; 
Heard,  nightly  plunged  amid  the  sullen  waves, 
The  frequent  corse  :  while  on  each  other  fix'd, 
In  sad  presage,  the  blank  assistants  seem'd,  1050 

Silent,  to  ask,  whom  Fate  would  next  demand. 

What  need  I  mention  those  inclement  skies, 
Where,  frequent  o'er  the  sickening  city,  Plague, 
The  fiercest  child  of  Nemesis  divine, 
Descends ?     From  Ethiopia's  poison'd  woods,       1055 


64  SUMMER. 

From  stifled  Cairo's  filth,  and  fetid  fields 

With  locust  armies  putrefying  heap'd, 

This  great  destroyer  sprung.     Her  awful  rage 

The  brutes  escape  :  Man  is  her  destined  prey, 

Intemperate  Man  !  and,  o'er  his  guilty  domes,       lOb'O 

She  draws  a  close  incumbent  cloud  of  death  : 

Uninterrupted  by  the  living  winds, 

Forbid  to  blow  a  wholesome  breeze  ;  and  stain'd 

With  many  a  mixture  by  the  sun,  suffused, 

Of  angry  aspect.     Princely  wisdom,  then,  10G5 

Dejects  his  watchful  eye  ;  and  from  the  hand 

Of  feeble  justice,  ineffectual,  drop 

The  sword  and  balance  :  mute  the  voice  of  joy, 

And  hush'd  the  clamour  of  the  busy  world. 

Empty  the  streets,  with  uncouth  verdure  clad  ;     1070 

Into  the  worst  of  deserts  sudden  turn'd 

The  cheerful  haunt  of  men;  unless  escaped 

From  the  doom'd  house,  where  matchless  horror  reigns, 

Shut  up  by  barbarous  fear,  the  smitten  wretch, 

With  frenzy  wild,  breaks  loose ;  and,  loud  to  Heaven 

Screaming,  the  dreadful  policy  arraigns,  1076 

Inhuman,  and  unwise.     The  sullen  door, 

Yet  uninfected,  on  its  cautious  hinge 

Fearing  to  turn,  abhors  society  : 

Dependants,  friends,  relations,  Love  himself,         1080 

Savaged  by  woe,  forget  the  tender  tie, 

The  sweet  engagement  of  the  feeling  heart. 

But  vain  their  selfish  care  •  the  circling  sky, 

The  wide  enlivening  air  is  full  of  fate ; 

And,  struck  by  turns,  in  solitary  pangs  10&5 

They  fall,  unbless'd,  untended,  and  unmourn'd. 

Thus  o'er  the  prostrate  city  black  Despair 

Extends  her  raven  wing  ;  while,  to  complete 

The  scene  of  desolation,  stretch'd  around, 

The  grim  guards  stand,  denying  all  retreat,  109(1 

And  give  the  flying  wretch  a  better  death. 

Much  yet  remains  unsung  :  the  rage  intense 
Of  brazen- vaulted  skies,  of  iron  fields. 


SUMMER.  65 

Where  drought  and  famine  starve  the  blasted  year 
Fired  by  the  torch  of  noon  to  tenfold  rage,  1095 

The'  infuriate  hill  that  shoots  the  pillar 'd  flame  ; 
And,  roused  within  the  subterranean  world, 
The'  expanding  earthquake,  that  resistless  shakes 
Aspiring  cities  from  their  solid  base, 
And  buries  mountains  in  the  flaming  gulf. 
But  'tis  enough  ;  return,  my  vagrant  Muse  : 
A  nearer  scene  of  horror  calls  thee  homo. 

Behold,  slow-settling  o'er  the  lurid  grove 
Unusual  darkness  broods  ;  and  growing  gains 
The  full  possession  of  the  sky,  surcharged  1105 

With  wrathful  vapour,  from  the  secret  beds, 
Where  sleep  the  mineral  generations,  drawn. 
Thence  nitre,  sulphur,  and  the  fiery  spume 
Of  fat  bitumen,  steaming  on  the  day, 
With  various  tinctured  trains  of  latent  flame,         1110 
Pollute  the  sky,  and  in  yon  baleful  cloud, 
A  reddening  gloom,  a  magazine  of  fate 
Ferment ;  till,  by  the  touch  ethereal  roused, 
The  dash  of  clouds,  or  irritating  war 
Of  fighting  winds,  while  all  is  cairn  below,  1115 

They  furious  spring.     A  boding  silence  reigns, 
Dread  through  the  dun  expanse ;  save  the  dull  sound 
That  from  the  mountain,  previous  to  the  storm, 
Rolls  o'er  the  muttering  earth,  disturbs  the  flood, 
And  shakes  the  forest-leaf  without  a  breath.  1120 

Prone,  to  the  lowest  vale,  the  aerial  tribes 
Descend  :  the  tempest-loving  raven  scarce 
Dares  wing  the  dubious  dusk.     In  rueful  gaze 
The  cattle  stand,  and  on  the  scowling  heavens 
Cast  a  deploring  eye  ;  by  man  forsook,  1126 

Who  to  the  crowded  cottage  hies  him  fast, 
Or  seeks  the  shelter  of  the  downward  cave. 

'Tis  listening  fear,  and  dumb  amazement  all : 
When  to  the  startled  eye  the  sudden  glance 
Appears  far  south,  eruptive  through  the  cloud  j     1130 
And,  following  slower,  in  explosion  vast, 
6* 


66  SUMMER. 

The  Thunder  raises  his  tremendous  voice. 

At  first,  heard  solemn  o'er  the  verge  of  heaven, 

The  tempest  growls  ;  but  as  it  nearer  comes, 

And  rolls  its  awful  harden  on  the  wind,  1135 

The  lightnings  llash  a  larger  curve,  and  more 

The  noise  astounds  :  till  over  head  a  sheet 

Of  livid  flame  discloses  wide  ;  then  shuts, 

And  opens  wider  ;  shuts  and  opens  still 

Expansive,  wrapping  ether  in  a  blaze.  1140 

Follows  the  loosen'd  aggravated  roar, 

Enl.rging,  deepening,  mingling  ;  peal  on  peal 

Crush'd  horrible,  convulsing  heaven  and  earth. 

Down  comes  a  deluge  of  sonorous  hail, 
Or  prone-descending  rain.  Wide-rent,  the  clouds  1145 
Pour  a  whole  flood  ;  and  yet,  its  flame  unquench  d, 
The'  unconquerable  lightning  struggles  through, 
Ragged  and  fierce,  or  in  red  whirling  balls, 
And  fires  the  mountains  with  redoubled  rage.        1149 
Black  from  the  stroke,  above,  the  smouldering  pine 
Stands  a  sad  shatter'd  trunk ;  and,  stretch'd  below, 
A  lifeless  group  the  blasted  cattle  lie  : 
Here  the  soft  flocks,  with  that  same  harmless  look 
They  wore  alive,  and  ruminating  still 
In  fancy's  eye  j  and  there  the  frowning  bull,         1155 
And  ox  half-raised.     Struck  on  the  castled  cliff, 
The  venerable  tower  and  spiry  fane 
Resign  their  aged  pride.     The  gloomy  woods 
Start  at  the  flash,  and  from  their  deep  recess, 
Wide-flaming  out,  their  trembling  inmates  shake.  1160 
Amid  Carnarvon's  mountains  rages  loud 
The  repercussive  roar :  with  mighty  crush, 
Into  the  flashing  deep,  from  the  rude  rocks 
.  Of  Penmanmaur  heap'd  hideous  to  the  sky, 
Tumble  the  smitten  cliffs :  and  Snowden's  peak,  1168 
Dissolving,  instant  yields  his  wintry  load. 
Far  seen,  the  heights  of  heathy  Cheviot  blaze, 
And  Thulc  bellows  through  her  utmost  isles. 

Guilt  heara  appall'd,  with  deeply  troubled  thought 


SUMMER.  67 

And  yet  not  always  on  the  guilty  head  1170 

Descends  the  fated  flash.     Young  Celadon 
And  his  Amelia  were  a  matchless  pair  ; 
With  equal  virtue  foim'd,  and  equal  grace, 
The  same,  distinguished  by  their  sex  alone 
Hers  the  mild  lustre  of  the  blooming  morn,  1175 

And  his  the  radiance  of  the  risen  day. 

They  loved  :  but  such  the  guileless  passion  was, 
As  in  the  dawn  of  time  inform'd  the  heart 
Of  innocence,  and  undissembling  truth.        \    / 
'Twas  friendship  heighten'd  by  the  mutual  wiw ;  1180 
The'  enchanting  hope  and  sympathetic  glow/  ^ 
Beam'd  from  the  mutual  eye.     Devoting  all 
To  love,  each  was  to  each  a  dearer  self; 
Supremely  happy  in  the'  awaken'd  power 
Of  giving  joy.     Alone,  amid  the  shades,  1185 

Still  in  lidi monious  intercourse  they  lived 
The  rural  day,  and  talk'd  the  flowing  heart, 
Or  sigh'd  and  look'd  unutterable  things. 

So  pass'd  their  life,  a  clear  united  stream, 
By  care  unruffled  ;  till,  in  evil  hour,  Ij90 

The  tempest  caught  them  on  the  tender  walk, 
Heedless  how  far  and  where  its  mazes  stray 'd, 
While,  with  each  other  bless'd,  creative  love 
Still  bade  eternal  Eden  smile  around. 
Presaging  instant  fate  her  bosom  heaved  1195 

Unwonted  sighs,  and,  stealing  oft  a  look 
Of  the  big  gloom,  on  Celadon  her  eye 
Fell  tearful,  wetting  her  disorder'd  cheolf. 
In  vain,  assuring  love  and  ccnfidence^V 
In  Heaven  repress'd  her  fear  ;  it  grew,  and  shook 
Her  frame  near  dissolation.     He  perceived  1201 

Tho'  unequal  conflict ;  and  as  angels  look  « 

On  dying  saints,  his  eyes  compassion  shed, 
With  love  illumined  high.     "  Fear  not,"  he  said, 
"  Sweet  innocence  !  thou  stranger  to  offence,         1205 
And  inward  storm  !  He,  who  yon  skies  involves 
In  frowns  of  darkness,  ever  smiles  on  thee 


68  SUMMER. 

With  kind  regard.     O'er  thee  the  secret  shall 
That  wastes  at  midnight,  or  the'  undreaded  hour 
Of  noon,  flies  harmless  :  and  that  very  voice,         1210 
Which  thunders  terror  through  the  guilty  heart, 
fVith  tongues  of  seraphs  whispers  peace  to  thine 
Tis  safety  to  be  near  thee  sure,  and  thus 
To  clasp  perfection  !"  From  his  void  embrace,      1214 
(Mysterious  Heaven  !)  that  moment,  to  the  ground, 
A  blacken'd  corse,  was  struck  the  beauteous  maid. 
But  who  can  paint  the  lover,  as  he  stood, 
Pierced  by  severe  amazement,  hating  life, 
Speechless,  and  fix'd  in  all  the  death  of  woe  ! 
So,  faint  resemblance  !  on  the  marble  tomb,  1220 

The  well  desembled  mourner  stooping  stands, 
For  ever  silent  and  for  ever  sad. 

As  from  the  face  of  heaven  the  shatter'd  clouds 
Tumultuous  rove,  the'  interminable  sky 
Sublimer  swells,  and  o'er  the  world  expands  1225 

A  purer  azure.     Through  the  lighten'd  air 
A  higher  lustre  and  a  clearer  calm, 
Dnfusive,  tremble  ;  while,  as  if  in  sign 
Of  danger  past,  a  glittering  robe  of  joy, 
Set  off  abundant  by  the  yellow  ray,  1230 

Invests  the  fields  ;  and  nature  smiles  revived. 

'Tis  beauty  all,  and  grateful  song  around, 
Join'd  to  the  low  of  kine,  and  numerous  bleat 
Of  flocks  thick-nibbling  through  the  clover'd  vale. 
And  shall  the  hymn  be  marr'd  by  thankless  Man,  1235 
Most  favour'd  !  who  with  voice  articulate 
Should  lead  the  chorus  of  this  lower  world  ; 
Shall  he,  so  soon  forgetful  of  the  Hand 
That  hush'd  the  thunder,  and  serenes  the  sky, 
Extinguish'd  feel  that  spark  the  tempest  waked,    1240 
That  sense  of  powers  exceeding  far  his  own, 
Ere  yet  his  feeble  heart  has  lost  its  fears  ? 

Cheer'd  by  the  milder  beam,  the  sprightly  youth 
Speeds  to  the  well  known  pool,  whose  crystal  depth 
d  sandy  bottom  shows.     Awhile  he  stands  1345 


SUMMER.  69 

Gazing  the*  inverted  landscape,  half  afraid 
To  meditate  the  blue  profound  below  ; 
Then  plunges  headlong  down  the  circling  flood. 
His  ebon  tresses  and  his  rosy  cheek 
Instant  emerge  ;  and,  through  the'  obedient  wave, 
At  each  short  breathing  by  his  lip  reoell'd,  1251 

With  arms  and  legs  according  well,  he  makes 
As  humour  leads,  an  easy-winding  path ; 
While,  from  his  polish'd  sides,  a  dewy  light 
Efluses  on  the  pleased  spectators  round.  1255 

This  is  the  purest  exercise  of  health, 
The  kind  refresher  of  the  summer  heats; 
Nor  when  cold  Winter  keens  the  brightening  flood, 
Would  1  weak-shivering  linger  on  the  brink. 
Thus  life  redoubles,  and  is  oft  preserved,  12GO 

By  the  bold  swimmer,  in  the  swift  elapse 
Of  accident  disastrous.     Hence  the  limbs 
Knit  into  force  ;  and  the  same  Roman  arm, 
That  rose  victorious  o'er  the  conquer'd  earth, 
First  learn'd,  while  tender,  to  subdue  the  wave.     1265 
Even  from  the  body's  purity,  the  mind 
Receives  a  secret  sympathetic  aid. 

Close  in  the  covert  of  a  hazel  copse, 
Where  winded  into  pleasing  solitudes 
Runs  out  the  rambling  dale,  young  Damon  sat,     1270 
Pensive,  and  pierced  with  love's  delightful  pangs. 
There  to  the  stream  that  down  the  distant  rocks 
Hoarse-murmuring  fell,  arid  plaintive  breeze  that  play'd 
Among  the  bending  willows,  falsely  he 
Of  Musidora's  cruelty  complain'd.  1275 

She  felt  his  flame  ;  but  deep  within  her  breast 
In  bashful  coyness,  or  in  maiden  pride, 
The.  soft  return  conceal'd  ;  save  when  it  stole 
In  sidelong  glances  from  her  downcast  eye, 
Or  from  her  swelling  soul  in  stifled  sighs.  1280 

Touch'd  by  the  scene,  no  stranger  to  his  vows, 
He  framed  a  melting  lay,  to  try  her  heart ; 
And,  if  an  infant  passion  struggled  there, 


70  SUMMER. 

To  call  that  passion  forth.     Thrice  happy  swain  ! 

A  lucky  chance,  that  oft  decides  the  fate  1285 

Of  mighty  monarchs,  then  decided  thine. 

?or  lo  !  conducted  by  the  laughing  Loves, 

This  cool  retreat  his  Musidora  sought : 

Warm  in  her  cheek  the  sultry  season  glow'd ; 

And,  robed  in  loose  array,  she  came  to  bathe          1290 

Her  fervent  limbs  in  the  refreshing  stream. 

What  shall  he  do  ?  In  sweet  confusion  lost, 

And  dubious  flutterings,  he  awhile  remain'd  : 

A  pure  ingenuous  elegance  of  soul, 

A  delicate  refinement,  known  to  few,  1295 

Perplex'd  his  breast,  and  urged  him  to  retire  : 

But  love  forbade.     Ye  prudes  in  virtue,  say, 

Say,  ye  severest,  what  would  you  h;ive  done  ? 

Meantime,  this  fairer  nymph  than  ever  bless'd 

Arcadian  stream,  with  timid  eye  around  1300 

The  banks  surveying,  stripp'd  her  beauteous  lhnb», 

To  taste  the  lucid  coolness  of  the  flood. 

Ah  then  !  not  Paris  on  the  piny  top 

Of  Ida  panted  stronger,  when  aside 

The  riva^-goddesses  the  veil  divine  1305 

Cast  unconfined,  and  gave  him  all  their  charms, 

Than,  Damon,  thou  j  as  from  the  snowy  leg, 

And  slender  foot,  the'  inverted  silk  she  drew  ; 

As  the  soft  touch  dissolved  the  virgin  zone  ; 

And,  through  the  parting  robe,  the'  alternate  breast, 

With  youth  wild-throbbing,  on  thy  lawless  gaze     1311 

In  full  luxuriance  rose.     But,  desperate  youth, 

Hew  durst  thou  risk  the  soul-distracting  view ; 

As  from  her  naked  limbs  of  glowing  white, 

Harmonious  swell  d  by  Nature's  finest  hand,          1315 

In  fcids  loose-floaf.ing  fell  the  fainter  lawn  ; 

And  fair-exposed  she  stood,  shrunk  from  herself 

With  fancy  blushing,  at  the  doubtful  breeze 

Alarm'd,  and  starting  like  the  fearful  fawn  ? 

Then  to  the  flood  she  rush'd ;  the  parted  flood 

Its  bvely  guest  with  closing  waves  received  ; 


SUMMER.  n 

And  every  beauty  softening,  every  grao* 
Flushing  anew,  a  mellow  lustre  shed  : 
As  shines  the  lily  threugh  the  crystal  mild  ; 
Or  as  the  rose  amid  the  morning  dew,  1325 

Fresh  from  Aurora's  hand,  more  sweetly  glows. 
While  thus  she  wanton'd,  now  beneath  the  wave 
But  ill  concealed  ;  and  now  with  streaming  locks, 
That  half-embraced  her  in  a  humid  veil, 
Rising  again,  the  latent  Damon  drew  1330 

Such  maddening  draughts  of  beauty  to  the  soul 
As  for  awhile  o'erwhelm'd  his  raptured  thought 
With  luxury  too  daring.     Check'd,  at.  last, 
By  love's  respectful  modesty,  he  deem'd 
The  theft  profane,  if  aught  profane  to  love  1335 

Can  e  er  be  deem'd ;  and,  struggling  from  the  shade, 
With  headlong  hurry  fled  :  but  first  these  lines, 
Traced  by  his  ready  pencil,  on  the  bank 
With  trembling  hand  he  threw  •— "  Bathe  on,  my  fair, 
Yet  unheheld  save  by  the  sacred  eye  1340 

Of  faithful  love  :  1  go  to  guard  thy  haunt, 
To  keep  from  thy  recess  each  vagrant  foot, 
And  each  licentious  eye."     With  wild  surprise, 
As  if  to  marble  struck,  devoid  of  sense, 
A  stupid  moment  motionless  -.he  stood  :  1345 

So  stands  the  statue*  that  enchants  the  world, 
So  bending  tries  to  veil  the  matchless  boast, 
The  mingled  beauties  of  exulting  Greece. 
Recovering,  swift  she  flew  to  find  those  robes 
Which  blissful  Eden  knew  not ;  and,  array 'd          1350 
In  careless  haste,  the'  alarming  paper  snatch'd. 
But,  when  her  Damon's  well  known  hand  she  saw. 
Her  terrors  vanish 'd,  and  a  softer  train 
Of  mix'd  emotions,  hard  to  be  described, 
Her  sudden  bosom  seized  :  shame  void  of  guilt,     1356 
The  charming  blush  of  innocence,  esteem, 
And  admiration  of  her  lover's  flame, 
By  modesty  exalted :  even  a  sense 

•  The  Venus  of  Medici. 


72  SUMMER. 

Of  self-approving  beauty  stole  across 

Her  busy  thought.     At  length,  a  tender  calm        1360 

Hush'd  by  degrees  Ihe  tumult  of  her  soul ; 

And  on  the  spreading  beenh,  that  o'er  the  stream 

Incumbent  hung,  she  with  the  silvan  pen 

Of  rural  lovers  this  confession  carved, 

Which  soon  her  Damon  kiss'd  with  weeping  joy  :  136* 

"  Dear  youth  !  sole  judge  of  what  these  verses  mean,;, 

By  fortune  too  much  favour'd,  but  by  love, 

Alas  !  not  favour'd  less,  be  still  as  now 

Discreet ;  the  time  may  come  you  need  not  fly." 

The  sun  has  lost  his  rage  :  his  downward  orb    1370 
Shoots  nothing  now  out  animating  warmth, 
And  vital  lustre  ;  that,  with  various  ray, 
Lights  up  the  clouds,  those  beauteous  robes  of  heaven. 
Incessant  roll'd  into  romantic  shapes, 
The  dream  of  waking  fancy!  broad  below  1375 

Cover'd  with  ripening  fruits,  and  swelling  fast 
Into  the  perfect  year,  the  pregnant  earth 
And  all  her  tribes  rejoice.     Now  the  soft  hour 
Of  walking  comes  :  for  him  who  lonely  loves 
To  seek  the  distant  hills,  and  there  converse          1380 
"With  Nature  ;  there  to  harmonize  his  heart, 
And  in  pathetic  song  to  breathe  around 
The  harmony  to  others.     Social  friends, 
Attuned  to  happy  unison  of  soul } 
To  whose  exahing  eye  a  fairer  world,  1385 

Of  which  the  vulgar  never  had  a  glimpse, 
Displays  its  charms  ;  whose  minds  are  richly  fraught 
With  philosophic  stores,  superior  light ; 
And  in  whose  breast,  enthusiastic,  burns 
Virtue,  the  sons  of  interest  deem  romance  ;  139V 

Now  call'd  abroad  enjoy  the  falling  day  : 
Now  to  the  verdant  Portico  of  woods, 
To  Nature's  vast  Lyceum,  forth  Lhey  walk 
By  that  kind  School  where  no  pioud  mast&r  reigns, 
The  full  free  converse  of  the  fricndlv  heart,  139$ 

Improving  and  improved.     Now  from  the  world, 


SUMMER.  7^ 

Sacred  to  sweet  retirement,  lovers  steal, 
And  pour  their  souls  in  transport,  which  the  Sire 
Of  love  approving  hears,  and  calls  it  good. 
Which  way,  Amanda,  shall  we  bend  our  course  ?  HOC 
The  choice  perplexes.     Wherefore  should  we  choose  ? 
All  is  the  same  with  thee.     Say,  shall  we  wind 
Along  the  streams  ?  or  walk  tho  smiling  mead  ? 
Or  court  the  forest  glades  ?  or  wander  wild 
Among  the  waving  harvest  ?  or  ascend,  1406 

While  radiant  Summer  opens  all  its  pride, 
Thy  hill,  delightful  Shene  ?*  Here  let  us  sweep 
The  boundless  landscape  :  now  the  rapturod  eye, 
Exulting  swift,  to  huge  Augusta  send  ; 
Now  to  the  Sister  Hillst  that  skirt  her  plain,         1410 
To  lofty  Harrow  now,  and  now  to  where 
Majestic  Windsor  lifts  his  princely  brow. 
In  lovely  contrast  to  this  glorious  view 
Calmly  magnificent,  then  will  we  turn 
To  where  the  silver  Thames  first  rural  grows        141S 
There  let  the  feasted  eye  unwearied  stray : 
Luxurious,  there,  rove  through  the  pendent  woods 
That  nodding  hang  o'er  Harrington's  retreat ; 
And,  stooping  thence  to  Ham's  embowering  walks, 
Beneath  whose  shades,  in  spotless  peace  retired,  1490 
With  Her  the  pleasing  partner  of  his  heart, 
The  worthy  Queensberry  yet  laments  his  Gay, 
And  polish'd  Cornbury  woos  the  willing  Muse. 
Slow  let  us  trace  the  matcnless  Vale  of  Thames ; 
Fair-winding  up  to  where  the  Muses  haunt  1425 

In  Twit'nam's  bowers,  and  for  their  Pope  implore    ^x^ 
The  healing  God  ;?  to  royal  Hampton's  pile, 
To  Clermont's  terraced  height,  and  Esher's  grovet, 
Where  in  the  sweetest  solitude,  embraced 
By  the  soft  windings  of  the  silent  Mole,  1430 

From  courts  and  senates  Pelham  finds  repose. 

*  The  old  name  of  Richmond,  signifying,  in  Saxon,  Shining 
or  Splendour. 

*  Hifthgate  and  Hampstead.          f  Iii  his  last  sickness. 

7 


74  SUMMER. 

Enchanting  vale  !  beyond  whate'er  the  Muse 

Has  of  Achaia  or  Hesperia  sung  ! 

O  vale  of  bliss  !  O  softly  swelling  hills  ! 

On  which  the  Power  of  Cultivation  lies,  435 

AnJ  joys  to  see  the  wonders  of  his  toil. 

Heavens !   what  a  goodly  prospect  spreads  around, 
Of  hills,  and  dales,  and  woods,  and  lawns,  and  spires, 
And  glittering  towns,  and  gilded  streams,  till  all 
The  stretching  landscape  into  smoke  decays!         1440 
Happy  Britannia  !  where  the  Queen  of  Arts, 
Inspiring  vigour,  Liberty  abroad 
VValks.  unconfined.  even  to  thy  furthest  cots, 
And  scatters  plenty  with  unsparing  hand. 

Rich  is  thy  soil,  and  merciful  thy  clime  ;  1445 

Thy  streams  unfailing  in  the  Summer's  drought ; 
Unmatch'd  thy  guardian  oaks  ;  thy  vaileys  float 
With  golden  waves :  and  on  thy  mountains  flocks 
Bleat  numberless  !  while,  roving  round  the  sides, 
Boliow  the  blackening  herds  in  lusty  droves.          1450 
Beneath,  thy  meadows  glow,  and  rise  unquell'd 
Against  the  mower's  scythe.     On  every  hand 
Thy  villas  shine.     Thy  country  teems  with  wealth , 
And  property  assures  it  to  the  swain, 
Pleased  and  unweariaj,  in  his  guarded  toil.  1455 

Full  are  thy  cities  with  the  sons  of  Ait ; 
And  trade  a-nd  joy,  in  every  busy  street, 
Mingling  are  heard  :  e'en  Drudgery  himself, 
As  at  the  car  he  sweats,  or  dusty  hews 
The  palace  stone,  looks  gay.     Thy  crowded  ports, 
Where  rising  masts  an  endless  prospect  yield,       1461 
With  labour  burn,  and  echo  to  the  shouts 
Of  hurried  sailor,  as  he  hearty  waves 
His  last  adieu,  and,  loosening  every  sheet, 
Resigns  the  spreading  vessel  to  the  wind.  1465 

Bold,  firm,  and  graceful  are  thy  generous  youth, 
By  hardship  sinew'd,  and  by  danger  fired, 
Scattering  the  nations  where  they  go ;  and  first 
Or  on  the  lisped  plain,  or  stormy  seas. 


SUMMER  75 

Mild  are  thy  glories  too,  as  o'er  the  plans 
Of  thriving  peace  thy  thoughtful  sires  preside ; 
In  genius  and  substantial  learning  high  j 
For  every  virtue,  every  worth,  renown'd ; 
Sincere,  plain-hearted,  hospitable,  kind  ; 
Yet  like  the  mustering  thunder  when  provoked,    1475 
The  dread  of  tyrants,  and  the  sole  resource 
Of  those  that  under  grim  oppression  groan. 

Thy  sons  of  Glory  many  !  Alfred  thine, 
In  whom  the  splendour  of  heroic  war, 
And  more  heroic  peace,  when  govern'd  well,         1430 
Combine  ;  whose  hallow'd  name  the  Virtues  saint, 
And  his  own  Muses  love ;  the  best  of  Kings  ! 
With  him  thy  Edwards  and  thy  Henries  shine, 
Names  dear  to  fame  ;  the  first  who  deep  impress'd 
On  haughty^  Gaul  the, terror  of  thy  arms,  14S5 

That  awes  her  genius  still.     In  statesman  thou, 
And  patriots,  fertile.     Thine  a  steady  More, 
Who,  with  a  generous  though  mistaken  zeal, 
Withstood  a  brutal  tyrant's  useful  rage, 
Like  Cato  firm,  like  Aristides  just,  1490 

Like  rigid  Cincinnatus  nobly  poor, 
A  dauntless  soul  erect,  who  smiled  on  death. 
Frugal  and  wise,  a  Walsingham  is  thine  ; 
AjtTrake,  who  made  thee  mistress  of  the  deep, 
And  bore  thy  name  in  thunder  round  the  world.    1495 
Then  flamed  thy  spirit  high  :  but  who  can  speak 
The  numerous  worthies  of  the  Maiden  Reign? 
In  Raleigh  mark  their  every  glory  mix'd ; 
Raleigh,  the  scourge  of  Spain  1  whose  breast  with  all 
The  sage,  the  patriot,  and  the  hero  burn'd.  1500 

Nor  sunk  his  vigour,  when  a  coward  reign 
The  warrior  fetter'd,  and  at  last  resign'd, 
To  glut  the  vengeance  of  a  vauquish'd  foe. 
Then,  active  still  and  unrestrain'd,  his  mind 
Explored  the  vast  extent  of  ages  past,  1505 

And  with  his  prison-hours  eiirich'd  the  world; 
Vet  found  no  times,  in  all  the  long  research, 


7fi  SUMMER. 

So  g-lorious  or  so  base  as  those  he  proved, 
In  vrhich  he  conquer'd,  and  in  which  he  We*}. 
Nor  can  the  Muse  the  gallant  Sidney  pass,  151C 

The  plume  of  war  !  with  early  Ia"urt4e^»rown'd, 
The  lover's  myrtle,  and  the  poet's  bay. 
A  Hampden  too  is  thine,  illustrious  land, 
Wise   strenuous,  firm,  of  unsubrnitting  soul, 
\         jVho  stemm'd  the  torrent  of  a  downward  age         1515 
/To  slavery  prone,  and  bade  thee  rise  again, 
In  ail  thy  native  pomp  of  freedom  bold. 
Bright!,  at  his  call,  thy  Age  of  Men  eflulged, 
Of  Men  on  whom  late  time  a  kindling  eye 
Shall  turn,  and  tyrants  tremble  while  they  read.    1520 
Bring  every  sweetest  flower,  and  let  me  strew 
The  grave  where  Russel  lies  ;  whose  temper'd  blood 
With  calmest  cheerfulness  for  thee  resign'd, 
Stain'd  the  sad  annals  of  a  giddy  reign  ; 
Aiming  at  lawless  power,  though  meanly  sunk      1525 
In  loose  inglorious  luxury.     Witli  him 
His  friend,  the  British  Cassius,*  fearless  bled; 
Of  high  determin'd  spirit,  roughly  brave, 
By  ancient  learning  to  the'  enlighten'd  love 
Of  ancient  freedom  warm'd.     Fair  thy  renown      1530 
In  awful  sages  and  in  noble  bards  ; 
Soon  as  the  light  of  dawning  Scinnnfy  ^prpnH 
Bter  orient  ray,  an^  waked  th»  Muses'  sung  •  _ 
Thine  i»  m  Bacon ;  kapleas  in  his  choice, 
~UMitTo~ stand  the  civil  storm  of  state,  1535 

And  through  the  smooth  barbarity  of  courts, 
With  firm  but  pliant  virtue,  forward  still 
To  urge  his  course  :  him  for  the  studious  shade 
Kind  Nature  form'd,  deep,  comprehensive,  clear, 
Exact,  and  elegant  ^  in  one  ri^h  soul,  1540 

Plato,  the  Stagyrite,  and  Tully  join'd. 
The  great  deliverer  he !  who  from  the  gloom 
Of  cloister'd  monks,  and  jargon-teaching  schools, 
Led  forth  the  true  Philosophy,  there  lon^r 
*  Algernon  Sidney. 


SUMMER.  77 

Held  in  the  ma^c..oJliaiji.jQjL5yjii:da  and  forms-,         1545 
AntretelmTtions  void  :  he  led  her  forth, 
Daughter  of  HeaVen  !  that  slow  ascending  still, 
Investigating  sure  the  chain  of  things, 
With  radiant  finger  points  to  heaven  again. 
The ^n^rmm  Ashley*  thine,  the  friend  of_man  J  J-550 
WTm ^nnnp'dJii^j^ure_with  a  brother Vej^e^. 
His_weakness_^rojagt  to  shade,  to  raise  his  aim, 
To  touch  the  finer  movements  of  the  mind, 
AJWJ_  v,-.ti.  fi^o  rnn™1  hp.nnt.y  charm  the  hearj^ 
Why  need  I  name  thy  Boyle,  whose  pious  search,  1555 
Amid  the  dark  recesses  of  his  works, 
The  great  Creator  sought  ?  Ahdwhythy  Locke, 
Who  made  the  whole  internal  woTld  lilt»  mm-?1 
Let  Newton,  pure  intelligence,  whom  GOD 
To  mortals  JLentjJ.o  trace  his  boundless  works"        15(JO 
From  laws  sublimely  siinnl;:,  *:>c;ik  thy  fame 
In  all  philosophy.     For  lofty  sense, 
Creative  fancy,  and  inspection  keen 
Through  the  deep  windings  of  the  human  heart, 
Is  not  wild  Shakspeare  thine  and  Nature's  boast  ?   156E 
Is  not  each  great,  each  amiable  Muse 
Of  classic  ages  in  thy  Milton  met  ? 
A  genius  universal  as  his  theme  ; 
Astonishing  as  chaos,  as  the  bloom 
Of  blowing  Eden  fair,  as  heaven  sublime  !  1570 

Nor  shall  my  verse  that  elder  bard  forget, 
The  gentle  Spenser,  Fancy's  pleasing  son  ; 
Who,  like  a  copious  river,  pour'd  his  song 
O'er  all  the  mazes  of  enchanted  ground  : 
Nor  thee,  his  ancient  master,  laughing  sage,          1575 
Chaucer,  whose  native  manners-painting  verse, 
Well  moralized,  shines  through  the  gothic  cloud 
Of  time  and  language  o'er  thy  genius  thrown. 

May  my  song  soften,  as  thy  daughters  I, 
Britannia,  hail !  for  beauty  is  their  own,  158fl 

JThe  feeling  heart,  simplicity  of  life, 

*  Anthony  Ashley  Cooper,  Earl  of  Shaftesbuty. 


78  SUMMEIl. 


Smfped  bv  the^hand  of  harmony  ;  the  check 

Where  the  live  crimson,  through  the  native  white 

Soft-shooting,  o'er  the  face  diffuses  bloom,  1585 

Arid  every  nameless  grace  ;  the  parted  lip 

Like  the  red  rosebud  moist  with  morning  dew 

Breathing  delight  ;  and,  under  flowing  jet, 

Or  sunny  ringlets,  or  of  circling  brown, 

The  neck  slight-shaded,  and  the  swelling  breast  :  151)0 

The  look  resistless,  piercing  to  the  soul, 

And  hv  tin1  soul  iaform'd,  whiMi  drcss'd  in  lovo 

She  sits  high  smilTngTn  tlie  conscious'  eye 

Island  of  bliss  !   amid  the  subject  seas, 
That  thunder  round  thy  rocky  coasts,  set  up,         1595 
At  once  the  wonder,  terror,  and  delight 
Of  distant  nations  ;  whose  remotest  shores 
Can  soon  be  shaken  by  thy  naval  arm  ; 
Not  to  be  shoo*,  thyself,  but  all  assaults 
Baffling,  as  thy  hoar  cliffs  the  loud  sea-wave.         1GOO 

O  thou  !  by  whose  Almighty  nod  the  scale 
Of  empire  rises,  or  alternate  falls, 
Send  forth  the  saving  Virtues  round  the  land, 
In  bright  patrol  :  wjjite  Peace,  ^t«4-sftciaLLove  ^ 
The  tender-looking  Ciuw+M^-intent  1G05 

On  gentle  deeds,  and  shedding  tears  through  smiles  j 
UndaunJlexLXuith,  and  dignity  of  mind  ; 
Courage  composed  and  keen  ;  sound  Tejwpewmcji, 
Healthful  in  heart  and  looks  ;  clear  Chastity, 
With  blushes  reddening  as  she  moves  along,          1C  10 
Disorder'd  at  the  deep  regard  she  draws  ; 
Rough  Industry  ;  Activity  untired, 
With  copious  life  informed,  and  all  awake  : 
While  in  the  radiant  front,  superior  shines 
That  first  paternal  virtue,  Public  Zeal,  1615 

Who  throws  o'er  all  an  equal  wide  survey, 
And,  ever  musing  on  the  commonweal, 
Still  labours  glorious  with  some  great  design. 

Low  walks  the  sun,  and  broadens  by  degrees, 


SUMMER.  7D 

fust  o'er  the  verge  of  day.    The  shifting  clouds  1620 
Assembled  gay,  a  richly  gorgeous  train, 
In  all  their  pomp  attend  his  setting  throne 
Air,  earth,  and  ocean  smile  immense.     And  now, 
As  if  his  weary  chariot  sought  the  bowers 
Of  Amphitrite  and  her  tending  nymphs, 
(So  Grecian  fable  sung,)  he  dips  his  orb  ; 
Now  half-immersed  ;  and  now  a  golden  curve 
Gives  one  bright  glance,  then  total  disappears. 

For  ever  running  and  enchanted  round, 
Passes  the  day,  deceitful,  vain,  and  void  ; 
As  ileets  the  vision  o'er  the  formful  brain, 
This  moment  hurrying  wild  the'  impassion'd  soul, 
The  njxt  in  nothing  lost.     Tis  so  to  him, 
The  dreamer  of  this  earth,  an  idle  blank : 
A  sight  of  horror  to  the  cruel  wretch, 
Who  all  day  long  in  sordid  pleasure  roll'd, 
Himself  a  useless  load,  has  squander'd  vile, 
Upon  his  scoundrel  train,  what  might  have  cheer  a 
A  drooping  family  of  modest  worth. 
But  to  the  generous  still-improving  mind, 
That  gives  the  hopeless  heart  to  sing  for  joy, 
Diilusing  kind  beneficence  around, 
BoaJtless  as  now  descends  the  silent  dew; 
To  him  the  long  review  of  order 'd  life 
Is  inward  rapture,  only  to  be  felt. 

Confess'd  from  yonder  slow-extinguished  clouds, 
All  ether  softening,  sober  evening  takes 
Her  wonted  station  in  the  middle  air  ; 
A  thousand  shadows  at  her  beck.     First  this 
She  sends  on  earth  ;  then  that  of  deeper  dye 
Steals  soft  behind  ;.  and  then  a  deeper  still, 
In  circle  following  circle,  gathers  round, 
To  close  the  face  of  things.     A  fresher  gale 
Begins  to  wave  the  wood,  and  stir  the  stream, 
Sweeping  with  shadowy  gust  the  fields  of  corn ;   1 
While  the  quail  clamours  for  his  running  mate. 
Wide  o'ei  the  thistly  lawn,  as  swells  the  breeze, 


80  SUMMER. 

A  whitening  uhower  of  vegetable  down 

Amusive  floats.     The  kind  impartial  care 

Of  Nature  nought  disdains  :  thoughtful  to  feed        1600 

Her  lowest  sons,  and  clothe  the  coming  year, 

From  field  to  field  the  feathcr'd  seed  she  wings. 

His  folded  flock  secure,  the  shepherd  home 
flies  .merry-hearted  :  and  by  turns  relieves 
The  ruddy  milkmaid  of  her  brimming  pail ;  166? 

The  beauty  whom  perhaps  his  witless  heart, 
Unknowing  what  the  joy-mix'd  anguish  means, 
Sincerely  loves,  by  that  best  language  shown 
Of  cordial  glances  and  obliging  deeds. 
Onward  they  pass,  o'er  many  a  panting  height,     1670 
And  valley  sunk,  and  unfrequented  ;  where 
At  lall  of  eve  the  fairy  people  throng, 
In  various  game,  and  revelry,  to  pass 
The  summer  night,  as  village  stories  tell. 
But  far  about  they  wander  from  the  grave  1675 

Of  him,  whom  his  ungentle  fortune  urged 
Against  his  own  sad  breast  to  lift  the  hand 
Of  impious  violence.     The  lonely  tower 
Is  also  shunn'd  ;  whose  mournful  chambers  hold, 
So  night-struck  fancy  dreams,  the  yelling  ghost.  1680 

Among  the  crooked  lanes,  on  every  hedge, 
The  glowworm  lights  his  gem  ;  and  through  the  dark 
A  moving  radiance  twinkles.     Evening  yields 
The  world  to  Night ;  not  in  her  winter  robe 
"Of  massy  stygian  woof,  but  loose  array 'd  1685 

In  mantle  dun.     A  faint  erroneous  ray, 
Glanced  from  the'  imperfect  surfaces  of  things, 
Flings  half  an  image  on  the  straining  eye  ; 
While  wavering  woods,  and  villages,  and  streams, 
And  rocks,  and  mountain  tops,  that  long  retain'd  1690 
The'  ascending  gieam,  are  all  one  swimming  scene, 
Uncertain  if  beheld.     Sudden  to  heaven 
Thence  weary  vision  turns  ;  where,  leading  soft 
The  silent  hours  of  lovo,  with  purest  ray 
Sweet  Venus  shines  •  and  from  her  genial  rise,     1695 


SUMMER.  81 

When  daylight  sickens  till  it  springs  afresh, 
Unrival'd  reigns,  the  fairest  lamp  of  Night. 
A*  thus  the'  effulgence  tremulous  I  drink, 
With  cherish'd  gaze,  the  lambent  lightnings  shoot 
Across  the  sky,  or  horizontal  dart  1700 

In  wondrous  shapes :  by  fearful  murmuring  crowd* 
Portentous  deern'd.     Amid  the  radiant  orbs, 
That  more  than  deck,  that  animate  the  sky, 
The  life-infusing  suns  of  other  worlds  ; 
Lo  !  from  the  dread  immensity  of  space  1705 

Returning,  with  accelerated  course, 
The  rushing  cornet  to  the  sun  descends  ; 
And,  as  he  sinks  below  the  shading  earth, 
With  awful  train  projected  o'er  the  heavens, 
The  guilty  nations  tremble    JBut,  above  1710 

Those  superstitious  iiorrors  that  enslavo 
Tin;  fond  sequacious  herd,  to  mystic  faith 
And  blind  amazement  prone,Jhe'  enlighten,' d  few 
Whose  godlike  minds  Philosophy  exalts, 
Thu  glorious  stranger  h;iil.     They,  ibci  a  joy  17.15 

Divinely  groat  ;  tlioy  in  llu'ir  powers  exult,, 
That  wondrous  force  of  thought,  which  mounting  spurns 
This  dusky  spot,  and  measures  all  the  sky  ; 
While,  from  his  far  excursion  through  the  wilds 
Of  barren  ether,  faithful  to  his  time,  1720 

They  see  the  blazing  wonder  rise  anew, 
In  seeming  terror  clad,  but  kindly  bent 
To  work  the  will  of  all-sustaining  Love  ; 
From  his  huge  vapoury  train  perhaps  to  shake 
Reviving  moisture  on  the  numerous  orbs,  172ti 

Through  which  his  long  ellipsis  winds ;  perhaps 
To  lend  new  fuel  to  declining  suns, 
To  light  ap  worlds,  and  feed  the'  eternal  fire. 

With  thee,  serene  Philosophy^with  thee, 
And  thy  bright  garland,  let  me  crown  my  song  !  1730 
Effusive  source  of  evidence  and  truth  ! 
A  lustre  shedding  o'er  the'  ennobled  mind, 
Stronger  than  summer  noon  ;  and  pure  as  that, 


82  SUMMER. 

Whose  mild  vibrations  sooth  the  parted  soul, 

New  to  the  dawning  of  celestial  day.  1735 

Hence  through  her  nourish'd  powers,  enlarged  by  thoe, 

She  springs  aloft  with  elevated  pride  ; 

Above  the  tangling  mass  of  low  desires, 

That  bind  the  fluttering  crowd  ;  and,  angel-wing'd, 

The  heights  of  science  and  of  virtue  gains,  1740 

Where  all  is  calm  and  clear  ;  with  Nature  round, 

Or  in  the  starry  regions,  or  the'  abyss, 

TO.  Reason's  and  to  Fancy's  eye jJisjjlavJiL* 

The  First  up  tracing,  from  the  dreary  void, 

The  chain  of  causes  and  effects  to  HIM,  1745 

The  world-producing  Essence,  who  alone 

Possesses .being_utvhile  the  Last  receives 

Tfce  yhnfo  magnificence  of  heaven  and  earth, 

Arid  every  beauty,  delicate  or  bold, 

Obvious  or  more  remote,  with  livelier  sense,         1750 

Diffusive  painted  on  the  rapid  nundL— — 

Tutor'd  by  thee,  hence  Poetry  exalts 
Her  voice  to  ages;  and  informs  the  page 
With  music,  image,  sentiment,  ami  thought, 
Never  to  die  !  the  treasure  of  mankind  !  1755 

Their  highest  honour,  and  their  truest  joy  ! 

Without  thee  what  were  unenlighten'd  Man  ? 
A  savage  roaming  through  the  woods  and  wilds, 
In  quest  of  prey  :  and  with  the'  unfnshion'd  fur 
Rorfgh  clad  ;  devoid  of  every  finer  art  1760 

And  elegance  of  life.     Nor  happiness 
Domestic,  mix'd  of  tenderness  and  care, 
Nor  moral  excellence,  nor  social  bliss, 
Nor  guardian  law  were  his ;  nor  various  skill 
To  turn  the  furrow,  or  to  guide  the  tool  176S 

Mechanic  ;  nor  the  heaven-conducted  prow 
Of  navigation  bold,  that  fearless  braves 
The  burning  line  or  dares  the  wintry  pole ; 
Mother  severe  of  infinite  delights  ! 
Nothing,  save  rapine,  indolence,  and  guile,  1770 

And  woes  on  woes,  a  still  revolving  train ! 


SUMMER.  83 

WTiose  horrid  circle  had  made  human  life 
Than  nonexistence  wome ;  bgt,  taught  by  thee. 
Oars  are  the  plans  ot  policy  and  peafifi  J  — 

To  live  like  brothers,  and  conjunctive  all  1775 

Embellish  life.     While  thus  laborious  crowds 

Ply  the  tough  oar,  Philosophy  Hirp.r.ts 

The  ruling  helm  ;  or  like  the  liberal  breath. 

OfpoTunt  hyavenTinvisible,  the  sail 

Swells  out,  and  bears  the'  inferior  world  along.     1780 

Nor  to  this  evanescent  speck  of  earth 
Poorly  confined,  the  radiant  tracts  on  high 
Are  her  exalted  range  ;  intent  to  gaze 
Creation  through  ;  and,  from  tnat  full  complex 
Of  never  ending  wonders,  to  conceive  178b 

Of  the  SOLE  BEING  right,  who  spoke  the  Word, 
And  Nature  moved  complete.     With  inward  view, 
Thence  on  the'  ideal  kingdom  swift  she  turns 
Her  eye  ;  and  instant,  at  her  powerful  glance, 
The'  obedient  phantoms  vanish  or  appear ;  1790 

Compound,  divide,  and  into  order  shift, 
Each  to  his  rank,  from  plain  perception  up 
To  the  fair  forms  of  Fancy's  fleeting  train : 
To  reason  then,  deducing  truth  from  truth  ; 
And  notion  quite  .abstract ;  where  first  begins         1795 
The  world  of  spirits,  action  all,  and  life 
Unfetter'd  and  unmix'd.     Bat  here  the  cloud 
[So  wills  Eternal  Providence)  sits  deep, 
Enough  for  us  to  know  that,  this  dark  stale, 
In  wayward  passions  lost  and  vain  pursuits,  1800 

This  Infancy  of  Being  cannot  prove 

The  final  issue  of  the  works  of  GOP, 

By  boundless  Love  and  perfect  Wisdom  form'd, 

\nd  ever  rising  with  the  rising  mind. 


AUTUMN. 


rhc  lubject  proposed.  Addressed  to  Mr.  Onslow.  A  prospect  of 
the  fields  ready  for  harvest.  Reflections  in  praise  of  IIKUS'. rj 
raised  by  that'view.  Reaping.  A  lale  relative  to  it.  A  harvest 
Btor.n.  Shooting  and  hunting,  their  barbarity.  A  ludicrous 
acceunt  of  fox-hunting.  A  view  of  an  orchard.  Wall-fruit.  A 
Tineyard.  A  description  of  fogs,  frequent  in  tlie  latter  part  of 
Autumn:  whence  a  digression,  inquiring  into  the  rise  of  foun 
tains  and  rivers.  Birds  of  season  considered,  that  now  shift  their 
haiiitat iv;n.  The  prodigious  number  of  them  that  cover  the 
northern  and  western  isf  s  of  Scotland.  Hence  a  view  of  the 
country.  A  prospect  cf  the  discoloured,  fading  woods.  After 
a  gentle  dusky  day,  moonlight.  Autumnal  meteors.  Morniii;; 
to  which  succeeds  a  calm,  pure,  sunshiny  day,  such  as  usually 
•hiits  up  the  season.  The  harvest  being  gathered  in,  the  coun 
try  dissolved  in  joy.  The  whole  concludes  with  a  panegyric  on 
ft  philosophical  country  life. 


CROWN'D  with  the  sickle  and  the  wheaten  shcal, 
While  Autumn,  nodding  o'er  the  yellow  plain, 
Comes  jovial  on ;  the  Doric  reed  once  more, 
Well  pleased,  I  tune.     Whatever  the  wintry  frost 
Nitrous  prepared";  the  various  blossoni'd  Spring         5 
Put  in  white  promise  forth;  and  Summer  suns 
Concocted  strong,  rush  boundless  now  to  view 
Full,  perfect  all,  and  swell  my  glorious  theme 
Onslow  !  the  Muse,  ambitious  of  thy  name, 
To  grace,  inspire,  and  dignify  her  song.  10 

Would  from  the  public  voice  thy  gentle  ear 
A  while  engage.     Thy  noble  care  she  knows, 
The  patriot  virtues  that  distend  thy  thought, 
Spread  on  thy  front,  and  in  thy  bosom  glow ; 
While  listening  senates  hang  upon  thy  tongue,         15 
Devolving  through  the  maze  of  eloquence 
A  roll  of  periods  sweater  than  her  song. 
But  she  too  pants  for  public  virtue,  she, 
Though  weak  of  power,  yet  strong  in  ardent  will. 
Whene'er  her  country  rushes  on  her  heart,  20 


AUTUMN.  & 

Assumes  a  bolder  note,  and  fondly  tries 
To  mix  the  patriot's  with  the  poet's  flame. 

When  the  bright  Virgin  gives  the  beauteous  days. 
And  Libra  weighs  in  equal  scales  the  year  ; 
Fr/wn  heaven's  high  cope  the  fierce  effulgence  shook 
Of  parting  Summer,  a  serener  blue,  2fl 

With  golden  light  enliven'd,  wide  invests 
The  happy  world.     Attemper'd  suns  arise, 
Sweet-beam 'd,  and  shedding  eft  through  lucid  clouds 
A  pleasing  calm  ;  while  broad,  and  brown,  below      30 
Extensive  harvests  hang  the  heavy  head. 
Rich,  silent,  deep,  they  stand  ;  for  not  a  gale 
Rolls  its  light  billows  o'er  the  bending  plain  • 
A  calm  of  plenty  !  till  the  ruffled  air 
Falls  from  its  poise,  and  gives  the  breeze  to  blow.     35 
Rent  is  the  fleecy  mantle  of  the  sky  ; 
The  clouds  fly  different ;  and  the  sudden  sun 
By  fits  effulgent  gilds  the'  illumined  field, 
And  black  by  fits  the  shadows  sweep  along. 
A  gaily  chequer'd  heart-expanding  view,  40 

Far  as  the  circling  eye  can  sLoot  around, 
Unbounded  tossing  in  a  flood  of  corn. 

These  are  thy  blessings,  Industry  !  rough  power ! 
Whom  labour  still  attends,  and  sweat,  and  pain, 
/\  Yet  the  kind  source  of  every  gentle  art,  45 

And  all  the  soft  civility  of  life : 
Raiser  of  humankind  !  by  Nature  cast, 
Naked,  and  helpless,  out  amid  the  woods 
And  wilds,  to  rude  inclement  elements ; 
With  various  seeds  of  art  deep  in  the  mind  50 

Implanted,  and  profusely  pour'd  around 
Materials  infin:te  ;  but  idle  all. 
Stiii  unexerted,  in  the'  unconscious  breast, 
Slept  the  lethargic  powers  ;  Corruption  still, 
Voracious,  swallow'd  what  the  liberal  hand  55 

Of  bounty  scatter'd  o'er  the  savage  year  : 
And  still  the  sad  barbarian,  roving,  mix'd 
With  beasts  of  prey  ;  or  for  his  acorn-meal 
8 


86  AUTUMN. 

Fought  the  fierce  tusky  boar  ;  a  shivering  wretch , 
Aghast  and  comfortless,  when  the  bleak  north,          GO 
With  Winter  charged,  let  the  mix'd  tempest  fly, 
Hail,  rain,  and  snow,  and  bitter-breathing  frost : 
Then  to  the  shelter  of  the  hut  he  flsd  ; 
And  the  wild  season,  sordid,  pined  away. 
For  home  he  had  not ;  home  is  tjifij^aott^  65 

onnvgxnf  jnyr  of  peace  and  plenty,  where, 
Supporting  and  supported,  polish  d  friends 
And  dear  relations  mingle  into  bliss. 
But  this  the  rugged  savage  never  felt, 
E'en  desolate  in  crowds  ;  and  thus  his  days  70 

Roll  d  heavy,  dark,  and  uncnjoy'd  along  : 
A  waste  of  time  !  tRl  Industry  approach^ 
And  roused  him  from  his  rniseral3te~gl6lL  ; 
His  faculties  unfolded  ;  pointej]  nut.^ 
WhRTB  lavish  Nature  the  directing  hand  75 

Of  Artdemaailfid-i-show'd  him  how  to  raise 
HilTfeeble  force  by  the  mechanic  powers, 
To  dig  the  mineral  from  the  vaulted  earth ; 
On  what  to  turn  the  piercing  rage  of  fire  ; 
On  wliat  the  torrent,  and  the  gather'd  blast ;  80 

Gave  the  tall  ancient  forest  to  his  axe  ; 
Taught  him  to  chip  the  wood,  and  hew  the  stone 
Till  by  degrees  the  finished  fabric  rose  ; 
Tore  from  his  limbs  the  blood-polluted  fur, 
And  wrapp'd  them  in  the  woolly  vestment  warm,     85 
Or  bright  in  glossy  silk  and  flowing  lawn  ; 
With  wholesome  viands  fill'd  his  table  ;  pour'd 
The  generous  glass  around,  inspired  to  wake 
The  life-refining  soul  of  decent  wit : 
Jvfor  stopp'd  at  ba.-ren  bare  necessity  ;  90 

But  still  advancing  bolder,  led  him  on 
To  pomp,  to  pleasure,  elegance,  and  grace  ; 
And,  breathing  high  ambition  through  his  soul, 
RA\  pijmtLB.  wladuui.  UJUiy.  in  his  viewj 
And  bade  him  be  the  Lord  of  nil  below.  95 

Then  gathering  men  their  natural  powers  combined, 


AUTUMN.  87 

And  form'd  a  Public  ;  to  the  general  good 
Submitting,  aiming  arid  con 
For  this  the  Patriot-Council 


ge 

fln/ 


TJu*i  frtt)  nrtd  fnn-JT  represented  Whole  :  100 

For  this  they  plann'd  the  holy  fnardjnn  1"*^ 

DisfTnguish'd  orders,  aniuialcxl  arts, 
And  with  joint  force  Oppression  chaining,  set 
Imperial  Justice  at  the  helm  ;  yet  still 
To  them  accountable  :  nor,  slavish,  dream'd  105 

Thai  toiling  millions  must  resign  their  weal, 
And  ffihthe_Iipiiej_pfthe|r  search,  to  such 
As  for  themselves  alone  themselves  have  raised. 
every  form  ofniilt.ivat.ed,  jjfe 


In  order  set,  protected,  and  inspired,  110 

Intu  pujffuetiun  wrouglifc—  Uniting  all, 

Society  grew  numerous,  high,  polite, 

And  happy.     Nurse  of  art  !  the  city  rear'd 

In  beauteous  pride  her  tower-encircled  head  ; 

And,  stretching  street  on  street,  by  thousands  drew, 

From  twining  woody  haunts,  or  the  tough  yew       116 

To  bows  strong-straining,  her  aspiring  sons. 

Then  commerce  brought  into  the  public  walk 
Tho  busy  merchant  ;  the  big  warehouse  built  ; 
Raised  the  strong  crane  ;  choked  up  the  loaded  street 
With  foreign  plenty  ;  and  thy  stream,  O  Thames,  121 
Large,  gentle,  deep,  majestic,  king  of  floods  ! 
Chose  for  his  grand  resort      On  either  hand, 
Like  a  long  wintry  forest,  groves  of  masts 
Shot  up  their  spires  ;  the  bellying  sheet  between   125 
Posstss'd  the  breezy  void  :  the  sooty  hulk 
Steer'd  sluggish  'on  ;  the  splendid  barge  along 
Row'd,  regular,  to  harmony  ;  around, 
The  boat,  light-skimming,  stretch'd  its  oary  wings  , 
While  deep  the  various  voice  of  fervent  toil  130 

From  bank  to  bank  increased  ;  whence  ribb'd  with  oak, 
To  bear  the  British  thunder,  black  and  bold, 
The  roaring  vessel  rush'd  into  the  main. 

Then  too  the  pillar'd  dome,  rnagnific.,  heaved 


88  AUTUMN. 

Its  ample  roof;  and  Luxury  within  135 

Pour'd  out  her  glittering  stores :  the  canvass  smooth, 

With  glowing  life  protuberant,  to  the  view 

Embodied  rose  ;  the  statue  seem'd  to  breathe. 

And  sot'ten  into  flesh,  beneath  the  touch 

Of  forming  art,  imagination  flush'd.  140 

All  is  the  gift  of  Industry  ;  whate'er 
Exalts,  embellishes,  arid  renders  life 
/      Delightful.     Pensive  Winter_cjieej^djiv_hiiii 
Sits  at  the  social  tire,  and  happy  hears 
The'  excluded  tempest  idly  rave  along  ;  115 

His  harden'd  fingers  deck  the  gaudy  Spring  ', 
Without  him  Summer  were  an  arid  waste  ; 
Nor  to  the'  Autumnal  months  could  thus  transmit 
Those  full,  mature,  immeasurable  stores, 
That,  waving  round,  recal  my  wandering  song.       150 

Soon  as  the  morning  trembles  o'er  the  sky, 
And,  unperceived,  unfolds  the  spreading  day  j 
Before  the  ripen'd  field  ths  reapers  stand, 
In  fair  array  ;  each  by  the  lass  he  loves, 
To  bear  the  rougher  part,  and  mitigate  155 

By  nameless  gentle  offices  her  toil. 
At  once  they  stoop  and  swell  the  lusty  sheaves  j 
While  through  their  cheerful  band  the  rural  talk, 
The  rural  scandal,  and  the  rural  jest, 
Fly  harmless,  to  deceive  the  tedious  time,  160 

And  steal  unfelt  the  sultry  hours  away. 
Behind  the  master  walks,  builds  up  the  shocks ; 
And,  conscious,  glancing  oft  on  every  side 
His  sated  eye,  feels  his  heart  heave  with  joy. 
The  gleaners  spread  around,  and  here  and  there,    1Gb 
Spike  after  spike,  their  scanty  harvest  pick. 
Be  not  too  n&.j'row,  husbandmen  !  but  fling 
From  the  full  sheaf,  with  charitable  stealth, 
The  liberable  handful.     Think,  oh  grateful  think  ! 
How  good  the  God  of  Harvest  is  to  you  ;  170 

Who  pours  abundance  o'er  your  flowing  fields ; 
While  these  unhappy  partners  of  youi  kind 


AUTUMN.  83 

Wide-hover  round  you,  like  the  fowls  of  heaven, 
And  ask  their  humble  dole.     The  various  turns 
Of  fortune  ponder  ;  that  your  sons  may  want  175 

What  now,  with  hard  reluctance,  faint  ye  give. 
The  lovely  young  Lavinia  once  had  friends  ; 
And  Fortune  armied,  deceitful,  on  her  birth. 
For,  in  her  helpless  years  deprived  of  all, 
Of  erre^y  stay,  save  Innocence  and  Heaven,  180 

fih«,  wtfn  her  widow'd  mother,  feeble,  old, 
And  poor,  lived  in  a  cottage,  far  retired 
Akieug  the  windings  of  a  woody  vale  ; 
By  jsotitude  and  deep  surrounding  shades, 
But  more  by  bashful  modesty,  coriceal'd.  185 

Together  thus  thev  shun.i'd  the  cruel  scorn 
WhictutirtiM;  sunk  to  poverty., ^vwtM-meet..., 
From  giddy  passion  and  low-minded  pride  • 
Almost  on  Nature's  commcn  bounty  fed  ; 
Like  the  gay  birds  that  sung  them  to  repose,  190 

Content,  and  careless  of  to-morrow's  fare. 
Her  form  was  fresher  than  the  morning  rose 
When  the  dew  wets  its  leaves  ;  unstain'd  and  pure, 
As  is  the  lily  or  the  mountain-snow. 
The  modest  virtues  mingled  in  her  eyes,  195 

Still  on  the  ground  dejected,  darting  all 
Their  humid  beams  into  the  blooming  flowers  • 
Or  v  hen  the  mournful  tale  her  mother  told, 
Of  what  her  faithless  fortune  promised  once, 
Thrill'd  in  her  thought,  they,  like  the  dewy  star     200 
Of  evening,  shone  in  tears.     A  native  grace 
Sat  fair-proportion'd  on  her  polish 'd  limbs, 
Veil'd  in  a  simple  robe,  their  best  ai-tire, 
Beyond  the  pomp  of  dress  ;  for  loveliness 
Needs  not  the  foreign  aid  of  ornament,  205 

But  is,  when  unadorn'd,  adorn'd  the  most. 
Thoughtless  of  beauty,  she  was  Beauty's  self, 
Recluse  amid  the  close-embowering  woods. 
As  in  the  hollow  breast  of  Apennine, 
Beneath  ihe  shelter  of  encircling  hills,  210 

8* 


90  AUTUMN. 

A  myrtle  rises,  far  from  human  eye, 

And  breathes  its  balmy  fragrance  o'er  the  wild ; 

So  flourish'd  blooming,  and  unseen  by  all, 

The  sweet  Lavinia  ;  till,  at  length,  compell'd 

By  strong  Necessity's  supreme  command,  215 

With  smiling  patience  in  her  looks,  she  went 

To  glean  Palemon's  fields.     The  pride  of  swains 

Palemon  was,  the  generous  and  the  rich  ; 

Who  led  the  rural  life  in  all  its  joy 

And  elegance,  such  as  Arcadian  song  220 

Transmits  from  ancient  uncorrupted  times  ; 

When  tyrant  custom  had  not  shackled  man, 

But  free  to  follow  Nature  was  the  mode. 

He  then,  his  fancy  with  autumnal  scenes 

Amusing,  chanced  beside  his  reaper-train  225 

To  walk,  when  poor  Lavinia  drew  his  eye  ; 

Unconscious  of  her  power,  and  turning  quick 

With  unaffected  blushes  from  his  gaze  : 

He  saw  her  charming,  but  he  saw  not  half 

The  charms  her  downcast  modesty  conceal'd.          230 

That  very  moment  love  and  chaste  desire 

Sprung  in  his  bosom,  to  himself  unknown  ; 

For  still  the  world  prevail'd,  and  its  dread  laugh, 

Which  scarce  the  firm  philosopher  can  scorn, 

Should  his  heart  own  a  gleaner  in  the  field  ;  233 

And  thus  in  secret  to  his  soul  he  sigh'd  :— 

"  What  pity !  that  so  delicate  a  form, 
By  beauty  kindled,  where  enlivening  sense 
And  more  than  vulgar  goodness  seem  to  dwell, 
Should  be  devoted  to  the  rude  embrace  240 

Of  some  indecent,  clown;  she  looks,  methinks 
Of  old  Acasto's  line  ;  and  to  my  mind 
Rccals  that  patron  of  my  happy  life, 
From  whom  my  liberal  fortune  took  its  rise  ; 
Now  to  the  dust  gone  down  ;  his  houses,  lands,      246 
And  once  fair-spreading  family,  dissolved. 
Tis  said,  that  in  some  lone  obscure  retreat, 
Urged  by  remembrance  sad,  and  decent  pride, 


AUTUMN.  91 

Far  from  those  scenes  which  knew  their  better  days, 
His  aged  widow  and  his  daughter  live,  250 

Whom  yet  my  fruitless  search  could  never  find. 
Romantic  wish  !  would  this  the  daughter  were  !" 

When,  strict  inquiring,  from  herself  he  found 
She  was  the  same,  the  daughter  of  his  friend, 
Of  bountiful  Acasto  ;  who  can  speak  255 

The  mingled  pa_>sions  that  surprised  his  heart, 
And  through  his  nerves  in  shivering  transport  ran  ? 
Then  blazed  his  smother'd  flame,  avow'd,  and  bold  ; 
And  as  he  view'd  her,  ardent,  o'er  and  o'er, 
Love,  gratitude,  and  pity  wept  at  once.  260 

Confused,  and  frighten'd  at  his  sudden  tears, 
Her  rising  beauties  flush'd  a  higher  bloom, 
As  thus  Palemon,  passionate  and  just, 
Pour'd  out  the  pious  rapture  of  his  soul : 

"  And  art  thou  then  Acasto's  dear  remains  ?        265 
She,  whom  my  restless  gratitude  lias  sought, 
So  long  in  vain  ?  O  heavens  !  the  very  same, 
The  soften'd  image  of  my  noble  friend, 
Alive  his  every  look,  his  every  feature, 
More  elegantly  touch  d.     Sweeter  than  Spring !     270 
Thou  sole  surviving  blossom  from  the  root 
That  nounsh'd  up  my  fortune  !  say,  ah  where, 
In  what  sequester'd  desert,  hast  thou  drawn 
The  kindest  aspect  of  delighted  heaven  ? 
Into  such  beauty  spread,  and  blown  so  fair  ;  275 

Though  Poverty's  cold  wind  and  crushing  rain 
Beat  keen  and  heavy  on  thy  tender  years  ? 
O,  let  me  now  into  a  richer  soil 

Transplant  thee  safe  !  where  vernal  suns  and  showers 
Hiffuse  their  warmest,  largest  influence  ;  280 

And  of  my  garden  be  the  pride  and  joy  ! 
Ill  it  befits  thee,  oh,  it  ill  befits 
Acasto's  daughter,  his,  whose  open  stores, 
Though  vast,  were  little  to  his  ampler  heart, 
The  father  of  a  country,  thus  to  pick  285 

The  very  refuse  of  those  harvest-fields 


02  AUTUMN. 

Which  from  his  bounteous  friendship  I  enjoy. 

Then  throw  that  shameful  pittance  from  thy  hand, 

But  ill  apply'd  to  such  a  rugged  task  ; 

The  fields,  the  master,  all,  my  fair,  are  thine  :         290 

If  to  the  various  blessings  which  thy  house 

Has  on  me  lavished,  thou  wilt  add  that  bliss, 

That  dearest  bliss,  the  power  cf  blessing  thee  !" 

Here  ceased  the  youth  :  yet  still  his  speaking  eye 
Express'd  the  sacred  triumph  of  his  soul,  295 

With  conscious  virtue,  gratitude,  and  love, 
Above  the  vulgar  joy  divinely  raised. 
Nor  waited  he  reply.     Won  by  the  charm 
Of  goodness  irresistible,  and  all 

In  sweet  disorder  lost,  she  blush'd  consent.  300 

The  news  immediate  to  her  mother  brought, 
While,  pierced  with  anxious  thought,  she  pined  away 
The  lonely  moments  for  Lavinia's  fate  : 
Amarsd,  and  scarce  believing  what  she  heard, 
Joy  seized  her  withsr'd  veine,  and  one  bright  gleam 
Of  setting  life  shone  on  her  evening  hours  :  306 

Not  loss  enraptured  than  the  happy  pair  ; 
Who  flourish'd  long  in  tender  bliss,  and  rear'd 
A  numerous  offspring,  lovely  like  themselves, 
And  good,  the  grace  of  all  the  country  round.          310 

Defeating  oft  the  labours  of  the  year, 
The  sultry  south  collects  a  potent  blast. 
At  first,  the  groves  are  scarcely  seen  to  stir 
Their  trembling  tops  ;  and  a  still  murmur  runs 
Along  the  soft-inclining  fields  of  corn.  315 

But  as  the   aerial  tempest  fuller  swells, 
And  in  one  mighty  stream,  invisible, 
Immense,  the  whole  excited  atmosphere 
Impetuous  rushes  o'er  the  sounding  world  ; 
Strain'd  to  the  root,  the  stooping  forest  pours  320 

A  rustling  shower  jf  yet  untimely  leaves. 
High-beat,  the  circling  mountains  eddy  in, 
From  the  bare  wild,  the  dissipated  storm, 
And  send  it  in  a  torrent  down  the  vale. 


AUTUMN.  93 

Exposed,  and  naked  to  its  utmost  rage,  32b 

Through  all  the  sea  of  harvest  rolling  round, 
The  billowy  plain  floats  wide ;  nor  can  evade, 
Though  pliant  to  the  blast,  its  seizing  force  , 
Or  whirl'd  in  air,  or  into  vacant  chaff 
Shook  waste.     And  sometime?  too  a  burst  of  rain  330 
Swept  from  the  black  horizon,  broad,  descends 
In  one  continuous  flood.     Still  overhead 
The  mingling  tempest  weaves  its  gloom,  and  still 
The  deluge  deepens  ;  till  the  fields  around 
Lie  sunk  and  flatted  in  the  sordid  wave. 
Sudden,  the  ditches  swell :  the  meadows  swim. 
Red,  from  the  hills,  innumerable  streams 
Tumultuous  roar  ;  and  high  above  its  banks 
The  river  lift ;  before  whose  rushing  tide, 
Herd? ,  flocks,  and  harvests,  cottages,  and  swains,  340 
Roll  mingled  down  ;  all  that  the  winds  had  spared 
In  ono  wild  moment  ruin'd  ;  the  big  hopes 
And  well  earn'd  treasures  of  tho  painful  year. 
Fled  to  some  eminence,  the  husbandman 
Helpless  beholds  the  miserable  wreck  34C 

Driving  along  ;  his  drowning  ox  at  once 
Descending,  with  his  labours  scatter'd  round, 
He  sees  ;  and  instant  o'er  his  shivering  thought 
Comes  Winter  unprovided,  and  a  train 
Of  claimant  children  dear.     Ye  masters,  then,        350 
Be  mindful  of  the  rough  laborious  hand 
That  sinks  you  soft  in  elegance  and  ease ; 
Be  mindful  of  those  limbs  in  russet  clad, 
Whose  toil  to  yours  is  warmth  and  grateful  pride  , 
And,  oh  !  be  mindful  of  that  sparing  board,  C55 

Which  covers  yours  with  luxury  profuse, 
Makes  your  glass  sparkle,  and  your  sense  rejoice  ! 
Nor  cruelly  demand  what  the  deep  rains 
And  all  involving  winds  have  swept  away. 

Here  the  rude  clamour  of  the  sportsman's  joy,    360 
The  gun  fast  thundering,  and  the  winded  horn, 
Would  tempt  the  Muse  to  sing  the  rural  game  : 


94  AUTUMN. 

How  in  his  mid  career  the  spaniel  struck, 
Stiff,  by  the  tainted  gale,  with  open  nose, 
Outstretch'd,  and  finely  sensible,  draws  full,  365 

Fearful,  and  cautious,  on  the  latent  prey  ; 
As  in  the  sun  the  circling  covey  bask 
Their  varied  plumes,  and,  watchful  every  way, 
Through  the  rough  stubble  turn  the  secret  eye. 
Caught  in  the  meshy  snare,  in  vain  they  beat          370 
Their  idle  wings,  entangled  more  and  more  : 
Nor  on  the  surges  of  the  boundloss  air, 
Though  borne  triumphant,  are  they  safe  ;  the  gun, 
Glanced  just  and  sudden  from  the  fowler's  eye, 
O'ertakes  their  sounding  pinions  •  and  again,          375 
Immediate,  brings  them,  from  the  towering  \ving, 
Dead  to  the  ground  ;  or  drives  thejn  wide-dispersed, 
Wounded,  and  wheeling  various,  down  the  wind. 

These  arc  not  subjects  for  the  peaceful  Muse, 
Nor  will  she  stain  v/ith  such  her  spotless  song  :       380 
Then  most  delighted,  when  sha  social  sees- 
The  whole  rnix'd  auiraal.crojit.iori  round 
Alive  and  happy.-..  'Tis  not  joy  to  her, 
This  falsely  cheerful  barbarous  game  of  death, 
This  rage  of  pleasure,  which  the  recess  youth       385 
Awakes,  impatient,  with  the  gleaming  morn  • 
When  beasts  of  prey  retire,  that  all  night  long, 
Urged  by  necessity,  had  ranged  the  dark, 
As  if  their  conscious  ravage  shunn'd  the  light, 
Ashamed.     Not  so  the  steady  tyrant  Man,  390 

Who,  with  the  thoughtless  insolence  of  power 
Inflamed,  beyond  the  most  infuriate  wrath 
O." the  worst  monster  that  e'er  roam'd  tho  waste, 
For  sport  alone  pursues  the  cruel  chase, 
Amid  the  beamings  of  the  gentle  days.  395 

Upbraid,  ye  ravening  tribes,  our  wanton  rage, 
For  hunger  kindles  you,  and  lawless  want ; 
But  lavish  fed,  in  Nature's  bounty  roll'd, 
To  joy  at  anguish,  and  delight  in  blood, 
Is  what  your  horrid  bosoms  never  knew. 


AUTUMN.  95 

Poor  is  the  triumph  o'er  the  timid  hare  ! 
Scared  from  the  corn,  and  now  to  some  lone  seat 
Retired  -.  the  ru^hy  fen ;  the  ragged  furze, 
Stretch'd  o'er  the  stony  heath  ;  the  stubble  chapt , 
The  thistly  lawn ;  the  thick  entangled  broom  : 
Of  the  same  friendly  hue,  the  wither'd  fern  ; 
The  fallow  ground  laid  open  to  the  sun, 
Concoctive  ;  and  the  nodding  sandy  bank, 
H-mg  o'er  the  mazes  of  the  mountain  brook. 
Vain  IB  her  best  precaution  ;  though  she  sits 
Conceal'd,  with  folded  oars  ;  unsleeping  eyes, 
By  Nature  raised  to  take  the'  horizon  in  ; 
And  head  couch'd  close  betwixt  her  hairy  feet, 
In  act  to  spring  away.     The  scented  dew 
Betrays  her  early  labyrinth  ;  and  deep, 
In  scatter'd  sullen  openings,  far  behind, 
With  every  breeze  she  hears  the  coming  storm. 
But  nearer,  and  more  frequent,  as  it  loads 
The  sighing  gale,  she  springs  amazed,  aud  all 
The  savage  soul  of  game  is  up  at  once  : 
The  pack  full-opening,  various  ;  the  shrill  horn, 
Resounded  from  the  hills  ;  the  neighing  steed, 
Wild  for  the  chase  ;  and  the  loud  hunters  shout ; 
O'er  a  weak,  harmless,  flying  creature,  all 
Mix'd  in  mad  tumult  and  discordant  joy. 

The  stag,  too,  singled  from  the  herd,  where  long 
He  ranged  the  branching  monarch  of  the  shades, 
Before  the  tempest  drives.     At  first,  in  speed 
He,  sprightly,  puts  his  faith  ;  and,  roused  by  fear, 
Gives  all  his  swift  aerial  soul  to  flight : 
Against  the  breeze  he  darts,  that  way  the  more 
To  leave  the  lessening  murderous  cry  behind  . 
Deception  short !  though  fleeter  than  the  winds 
Blown  o'er  the  keen-air'd  mountain  by  the  north, 
He  bursts  the  thickets,  glances  through  the  gladee,  43? 
And  plunges  deep  into  the  wildest  wood  j 
If  slow,  yet  sure,  adhesive  to  the  track 
Hot-steaming,  up  behind  him  come  again 


96  AUTUMN. 

The'  inhuman  rout,  and  from  the  shady  depth 

Expel  him,  circling  through  his  every  shift,  44C 

He  sweeps  the  forest  oft ;  and  sobbing  sees 

The  glades,  mild  opening  to  the  golden  day  ; 

Where,  in  kind  contest,  with  his  butting  friends 

He  wont  to  struggle,  or  his  loves  enjoy. 

Oft  in  the  full-descending  flood  he  tries  4-15 

To  lose  the  scent,  and  lave  his  burning  sides : 

Oft  seeks  the  herd  ;  the  watchful  herd,  alarm'd, 

With  selfish  care  avoid  a  brother's  woe- 

What  shall  he  do  ?  His  once  so  vivid  nerves, 

So  full  of  buoyant  spirit,  now  no  more  4f»0 

Inspire  the  course  ;  but  fainting  breathless  toil, 

Sick,  seizes  on  his  heart :  he  stands  at  bay  ; 

And  puts  his  last  weak  ref'ige  in  despair. 

The  big  round  tears  run  down  his  dappled  face  ; 

He  groans  in  anguish  :  while  the  growling-  pack,    455 

Blood-happy,  hang  at  his  fair  jutting  chest, 

And  mark  his  beauteous  checqner'd  sides  with  gore. 

Of  this  enough.     But  if  the  silvan  youth, 
Whose  fervent  blood  boils  into  violence, 
Must  have  the  chase  ;  behold,  despising  flight,        400 
The  roused-up  lion  resolute  and  slow, 
Advancing  full  on  the  protended  spear 
And  coward-band,  that  circling  wheel  aloof. 
Slunk  from  the  cavern  arid  the  troubled  wood, 
See  the  grim  wolf;  on  him  his  shaggy  foe  465 

Vindictive  fix,  and  let  the  ruffian  die  : 
Or,  growling  horrid,  as  the  brindled  boar 
Grins  fell  destruction,  to  the  monster's  heart 
Let  the  dart  lighten  from  the  nervous  arm. 

These  Britain  knows  not ;  give,  ye  Britons,  then 
Your  sportive  fury,  pitiless,  to  pour  471 

Loose  on  the  nightly  robber  of  the  fold  ; 
Him,  from  his  craggy  winding  haunts  uncarth'd, 
Let  all  the  thunder  of  the  chase  pursue. 
Throw  the  broad  ditch  behind  you  ;  o'er  the  hedge 
High-bound,  resistless  ;  nor  the  deep  morass*  476 


AUTUMN.  97 

Refuse,  but  through  the  shaking  wilderness 
Pick  your  nice  way  ;  into  the  perilous  flood 
Bear  fearless,  of  the  raging  instinct  full ; 
And  as  you  ride  the  torrent,  to  the  banks  48C 

Your  triumph  sound  sonorous,  running  round 
From  rock  to  rock,  in  circling  echoes  toss'd  ; 
Then  scale  the  mountains  to  their  woody  tops  ; 
Rush  down  the  dangerous  steep  ;  and  o'er  the  lawn, 
In  fancy  swallowing  up  the  space  between,  485 

Pour  all  your  speed  into  the  rapid  game. 
For  happy  he  !  who  tops  the  wheeling  chase  ; 
Has  every  maze  evolved,  and  every  guile 
Disclosed  ;  who  knows  the  merits  of  the  pack  ; 
Who  saw  the  villain  seized,  and  dying  hard,  490 

Without  complaint,  though  by  a  hundred  mouths 
Relentless  torn:  O  glorious  he,  beyond 
His  daring  peers  !  when  the  retreating  horn 
Calls  them  to  ghostly  halls  of  gray  renown, 
With  woodland  honours  graced  ;  the  fox's  fur,       495 
Depending  decent  from  the  roof;  and  spread 
Round  the  drear  walls,  with  antic  figures  fierce, 
The  stag's  large  front :  he  then  is  loudest  heard, 
When  the  night  staggers  with  severer  toils, 
With  feats  Thessalian  Centaurs  never  knew, 
And  their  repeated  wonders  shake  the  dome. 

But  first  the  fuel'd  chimney  blazes  wide  ; 
The  tankards  foam  ;  and  the  strong  table  groans 
Beneath  the  smoking  sirloin,  stretch'd  immense 
From  side  to  side  ;  in  which,  with  desperate  knife,  505 
They  deep  incision  make,  and  talk  the  while 
Of  England's  glory,  ne'er  to  be  defaced 
While  hence  they  borrow  vigour :  or  amain 
Into  the  pasty  plunged,  at  intervals, 
If  stomach  keen  can  intervals  allow,  «r>10 

Relating  all  the  glories  of  the  chase. 
Then  sated  Hunger  bids  his  brother  Thirst 
Produce  the  mighty  bowl ;  the  mighty  bowl, 
Swell'd  high  with  fiery  juice,  st.eams  liberal  round 
9 


98  AUTUMN. 

A  potent  gale,  delicious  as  the  breath  515 

Of  Maia  to  the  lovesick  shepherdess, 

On  violets  diffused,  while  soft  she  hears 

Her  panting  shepherd  stealing  to  her  arms. 

Nor  wanting  is  the  brown  October,  drawn, 

Mature  and  perfect,  from  his  dark  retreat  520 

Of  thirty  years  ;  and  now  his  honest  front 

Flames  in  the  light  refulgent,  not  afraid 

E'en  with  the  vineyard's  best  produce  to  vie. 

To  cheat  the  thirsty  moments,  Whist  awhile 

Walks  his  dull  round,  beneath  a  cloud  of  smoke,     525 

Wreathed,  fragrant,  from  the  pipe  ;  or  the  quick  dice, 

In  thunder  leaping  from  the  box,  awake 

The  sounding  gammon  :  while  romp-loving  miss 

Is  haul'd  about  in  gallantry  robust. 

At  last  these  puling  idlenesses  laid  530 

Aside,  frequent  and  full,  the  dry  divan 
Close  in  firm  circle  ;  and  set,  ardent,  in 
For  serious  drinking.     Nor  evasion  sly 
Nor  sober  shift  is  to  the  puking  wretch 
Indulged  apart ;  but  earnest,  brimming  bowls          535 
Lave  every  soul,  the  table  floating  round, 
And  pavement,  faithless  to  the  fuddled  foot. 
Thus  as  they  swim  in  mutual  swill,  the  talk, 
Vociferous  at  once  from  twenty  tongues, 
Reels  fast  from  theme  to  theme  ;  from  horses,  hounds, 
To  church  or  mistress,  politics  or  ghost,  541 

In  endless  mazes,  intricate,  perplex'd. 
Meantime,  with  sudden  interruption,  loud, 
The'  impatient  catch  bursts  from  the  joyous  heart ; 
That  moment  touch'd  is  every  kindred  soul ;  545 

And,  opening  in  a  full-mouth'd  cry  of  joy, 
The  laugh,  the  slap,  the  jocund  curse  go  round ; 
While,  from  their  slumbers  shook,  the  kennel'd  hounds 
Mix  in  the  music  of  the  day  again. 
As  when  the  tempest,  that  has  vex'd  the  deep         55U 
The  dark  night  long,  with  fainter  murmurs  falls  ; 
So  gradual  sinks  their  mirth.     Their  feeble  tongues 


AUTUMN.  99 

Unable  to  take  up  the  cumbrous  word, 

Lie  quite  dissolved.     Before  tbeir  maudlin  eyes, 

Seen  dim  and  blue,  the  double  tapers  dance  555 

Like  the  sun  wading  through  the  misty  sky. 

Then,  sliding  soft,  they  drop.     Confused  above, 

Glasses  and  bottles,  pipes  and  gazetteers, 

As  if  the  table  e'en  itself  was  drunk, 

Lie  a  wet  broken  scene  ;  and  wide,  below,  560 

Is  heap'd  the  social  slaughter  :  where  astride 

The  lubber  Power  in  filthy  triumph  sits, 

Slumberous,  inclining  still  from  side  to  side, 

And  steeps  them  drench 'd  in  potent  sleep  till  morn 

Perhaps  some  doctor,  of  tremendous  paunch,  5G5 

Awfal  and  deep,  a  black  abyss  of  drink, 

Outlives  them  all ;  and  from  his  buried  flock 

Retiring,  full  of  rumination  sad, 

Laments  the  weakness  of  these  latter  times. 

But  if  the  rougher  sex  by  this  fierce  sport  570 

Is  hurried  wild,  let  not  such  horrid  joy 
E'er  stain  the  bosom  of  the  British  Fair. 
Far  be  the  spirit  of  the  chase  from  them  ! 
Uncomely  courage,  unbeseeming  skill ; 
To  spring  the  fence,  to  rein  the  prancing  steed ,     575 
The  cap,  the  whip,  the  masculine  attire  ; 
In  which  they  roughen  to  the  sense,  and  all 
The  winning  softness  of  Jieir  sex  is  lost. 
In  them  'tis  graceful  to  dissolve  at  woe  ; 
With  every  motion,  every  word,  to  wave  580 

Quick  o'er  the  kindling  cheek  the  ready  blush  , 
And  from  the  smallest  violence  to  shrink 
Unequal,  then  the  loveliest  in  their  fears  ; 
And  by  this  silent  adulation,  soft, 
To  their  protection  more  engaging  Man.  585 

O  may  their  eye«i  no  miserable  sight, 
Save  weeping  lovers,  see  !  a  nobler  garae, 
Through  love's  enchanting  wiles  pursued,  yet  fled, 
In  chase  ambiguous.     May  their  tender  limbs 
Float  in  the  loose  simplicity  of  dress '  59C 


100  AUTUMN. 

And,  fashion'd  all  to  harmony,  alone 

Know  they  to  seize  the  captivated  soul, 

In  rapture  warbled  from  love-breathing  lips  , 

To  teach  the  lute  to  languish  ;  with  smooth  step, 

Disclosing  motion  in  its  every  charm,  596 

To  swim  along,  and  swell  the  mazy  dance  ; 

To  train  the  foliage  o'er  the  snowy  lawn  ; 

To  guide  the  pencil,  turn  the  tuneful  page  ; 

To  lend  new  flavour  to  the  fruitful  year, 

And  heighten  Nature's  dainties :  in  their  race         600 

To  rear  their  graces  into  second  life  j 

To  give  society  its  highest  taste  ; 

Well  order'd  home  man's  best  delight  to  make  j 

And  by  submissive  wisdom,  modest  skill, 

With  every  gentle  care-eluding  art,  605 

To  raise  the  virtues,  animate  the  bliss, 

And  sweeten  all  the  toils  of  human  life  : 

This  be  the  female  dignity  and  praise. 

Ye  swains,  now  hasten  to  the  hazel-bank  ; 
Where,  down  yon  dale,  the  wildly  winding  brook   610 
Falls  hoarse  from  steep  to  steep.     In  close  array, 
Fit  for  the  thickets  and  the  tangling  shrub, 
Ye  virgins,  come.     For  you  their  latest  song 
The  woodlands  raise  ;  the  clustering  nuts  for  you 
The  lover  finds  arnid  the  secret  shade  ;  615 

And,  where  they  burnish  on  che  topmost  bough, 
With  active  vigour  crushes  down  the  tree  ; 
Or  shakes  them  ripe  from  the  resigning  husk, 
A  glossy  shower,  and  of  an  ardent  brown, 
As  are  the  ringlets  of  Melinda's  hair  :  620 

Melinda  !  form'd  with  every  grace  complete. 
Yet  these  neglecting,  above  beauty  wise, 
And  far  transcending  such  a  vulgar  praise. 

Hence  from  the  busy  joy-resounding  fields, 
In  cheerful  error,  let  us  tread  the  maze  625 

Of  Autumn  unconfined  ;  and  taste,  revived, 
The  breath  of  orchard  big  with  bending  fruit. 
Obedient  to  the  breeze  and  beating  ray, 


AUTUMN.  101 

From  the  deep-loaded  bough  a  mellow  shower 

Incessant  melts  away.     The  juicy  pear  630 

Lies  in  a  soft  profusion  scatter'd  round. 

A  various  sweetness  swells  the  gentle  race  ; 

By  Nature's  all  refining  hand  prepared  ; 

Of  temper'd  sun,  and  water,  earth,  and  air, 

In  ever  changing  composition  mix'd. 

Such,  falling  frequent  through  the  chiller  night, 

The  fragrant  stores,  the  wide-projected  heaps 

Of  apples,  which  the -lusty-handed  Year, 

Innumerous,  o'er  the  blushing  orchard  shakes. 

A  various  spirit,  fresh,  delicious,  keen,  640 

Dwells  in  their  gelid  pores  ;  and,  active,  points 

The  piercing  cider  for  the  thirsty  tongue  : 

Thy  native  theme,  and  boon  inspirer  too, 

Thilips,  Pomona's  bard,  the  second  thou 

Who  nobly  durst,  in  rhyme-unfetter'd  verse,  645 

With  British  freedom  sing  the  British  song  : 

How,  from  Silurian  vats,  high-sparkling  wines 

Foam  in  transparent  floods  ;  some  strong,  to  cheer 

The  wintry  revels  of  the  labouring  hind  ; 

And  tasteful  some,  to  cool  the  summer  hours.          650 

In  this  glad  season,  while  his  sweetest  heams 
The  sun  sheds  equal  o'er  the  meeken'd  day  j 
Oh,  lose  me  in  the  green  delightful  walks 
Of,  Doddington,  thy  seat,  serene  and  plain, 
Where  simple  Nature  reigns  ;  and  every  view,        655 
Diffusive,  spreads  the  pure  Dorsetian  downs, 
In  boundless  prospect ;  yonder  shagg'd  with  wood, 
Here  rich  with  harvest,  and  there  white  with  flocks  ! 
Meantime  the  grandeur  of  thy  lofty  dome, 
Far  splendid,  seizes  on  the  ravish'd  eye.  660 

New  beauties  rise  with  each  revolving  day ', 
New  columns  swell ;  and  still  the  fresh  Spring  finds 
New  plants  to  quicken,  and  new  groves  to  green, 
Full  of  thy  genius  all !  the  Muses'  seat ; 
Where,  in  the  secret  bower  and  winding  walk,       663 
for  virtuous  Young  and  thee  they  twine  the  bay. 
9* 


-02  AUTUMN. 

Here  wandering  oft,  fired  with  the  restless  thirst 

Of  thy  applause,  I  solitary  court 

The'  inspiring  breeze  :  and  meditate  the  book 

Of  Nature  ever  open  ;  aiming  thence,  670 

Warm  from  the  heart,  to  learn  the  moral  song. 

Here,  as  I  steal  along  the  sunny  wall, 

Where  Autumn  basks,  with  fruit  empurpled  deep, 

My  pleasing  theme  continual  prompts  my  thought : 

Presents  the  downy  peach ;  the  shining  plum ;        675 

The  ruddy,  fragrant  nectarine  ;  and  dark, 

Beneath  his  ample  leaf,  the  luscious  fig. 

The  vine  too  here  her  curling  tendrils  shoots  j 

Hangs  out  her  clusters,  glowing  to  the  south ; 

And  scarcely  wishes  for  a  warmer  sky.  680 

Turn  we  a  moment  Fancy's  rapid  flight 
To  vigorous  soils  and  climes  of  fair  extent ; 
Where,  by  the  potent  sun  elated  high, 
The  vineyard  swells  refulgent  on  the  day  j 
Spreads  o'er  the  vale  ;  or  up  the  mountain  climbs,  685 
Profuse  ;  and  drinks  amid  the  sunny  rocks, 
From  cliff  to  cliff  increased,  the  heighten'd  blaze. 
Low  bend  the  weighty  boughs.     The  clusters  clear, 
Half  through  the  foliage  seen,  or  ardent  flame, 
Or  shine  transparent ;  while  perfection  breathes    690 
White  o'er  the  turgent  film  the  living  dew. 
As  thus  they  brighten  with  exalted  juice, 
Touch'd  into  flavour  by  the  mingling  ray  ; 
The  rural  youth  and  virgins  o'er  the  field, 
Each  fond  for  each  to  cull  the'  autumnal  prime,      695 
Exulting  rove,  and  speak  the  vintage  nigh. 
Then  comes  the  crushing  swain ;  the  country  float*, 
And  foams  unbounded  with  the  mashy  flood  ; 
That,  by  degrees  fermented  and  refined, 
Round  the  raised  nations  pours  the  cup  of  jcy :       700 
The  claret  smooth,  red  as  the  lip  we  press 
In  sparkling  fancy,  while  we  drain  the  bowl ; 
The  mellow-tasted  burgundy  ;  and,  quick 
As  is  the  wit  it  gives,  the  gay  champagne. 


AUTUMN.  103 

Now,  by  the  cool  declining  year  condensed,        705 
Descend  the  copious  exhalations,  check'd 
As  up  the  middle  sky  unseen  they  stole, 
And  roll  the  doubling  fogs  around  the  hill 
No  more  the  mountain,  horrid,  vast,  sublime, 
Who  pours  a  sweep  of  rivers  from  his  sides,  710 

And  high  between  contending  kingdoms  reara 
The  rocky  long  division,  fills  the  view 
With  great  variety  ;  but  in  a  night 
Of  gathering  vapour,  from  the  baffled  sense 
Siaks  dark  and  dreary.     Thence  expanding  far,     715 
The  huge  dusk,  gradual,  swallows  up  the  plain 
Vanish  the  woods  :  the  dim-seen  river  seems 
Sullen,  and  slow,  to  roll  the  misty  wave. 
E'en  in  the  height  of  noon  oppress'd,  the  sun 
Sheds  weak  and  blunt  his  wide-refracted  ray  ;         730 
Whence  glaring  oft,  with  many  a  broaden'd  orb, 
He  frights  the  nations.     Indistinct  on  earth, 
Seen  through  the  turbid  air,  beyond  the  life 
Objects  appear ;  and,  wilder'd,  o'er  the  waste 
The  shepherd  stalks  gigantic.     Till  at  last  7SK> 

Wreathed  dun  arour.d,  in  deeper  circles  still 
Successive  closing,  sits  the  general  fog 
Unbounded  o'er  the  world  ;  and,  mingling  thick, 
A  formless  gray  confusion  covers  all. 
As  when  of  old  (so  sung  the  Hebrew  Bard)  730 

Light,  uncollected,  through  the  chaos  urged 
Its  infant  way  ;  nor  Order  yet  had  drawn 
His  lovely  train  from  out  the  dubious  gloom. 

These  roving  mists,  that  constant  now  begin 
To  smoke  along  the  hilly  country,  these,  735 

With  weighty  rains,  arid  melted  Alpine  snows, 
The  mountain  cisterns  fill,  those  ample  stores 
Of  water,  scoop'd  among  the  hollow  rocks ; 
Whence  gush  the  streams,  the  ceaseless  fountains  play, 
And  their  unfailing  wealth  the  rivejs  draw.  740 

Some  sages  say,  that,  where  the  numerous  wavo 
For  ever  lashes  the  resounding  shore, 


104  AUTUMN. 

Drill'd  through  the  sandy  stratum,  every  way, 

The  waters  with  the  sandy  stratum  rise  ; 

Amid  whose  angles  infinitely  strain'd,  745 

They  joyful  leave  their  jaggy  salts  behind, 

And  clear  and  sweeten  as  they  soak  along. 

Nor  stops  the  restless  fluid,  mounting  still, 

Though  oft  amidst  the'  irriguous  vale  it  springs  j 

But  to  the  mountain  courted  by  the  sand,  750 

That  leads  it  darkling  on  in  faithful  maze, 

Far  from  the  parent  main,  it  boils  again 

Fresh  into  day  ;  and  all  the  glittering  hill 

Is  bright  with  spouting  rills.     But  hence  this  vain 

Amusive  dream  !  why  should  the  waters  love          755 

To  take  so  far  a  journey  to  the  hills, 

When  the  sweet  valleys  offer  to  their  toil 

Inviting  quiet  and  a  nearer  bed  ? 

Or  if,  by  blind  ambition  led  astray, 

They  must  aspire  ;  why  should  they  sudden  stop    760 

Among  the  broken  mountain's  rushy  dells, 

And,  ere  they  gain  its  highest  peak,  desert 

The'  attractive  sand  that  charm'd  their  course  so  long  ? 

Besides,  the  hard  agglomerating  salts, 

The  spoil  of  ages,  would  impervious  choke  705 

Their  secret  channels  ;  or,  by  slow  degrees, 

High  as  the  hills  protrude  the  swelling  vales: 

Old  Ocean  too,  suck'd  through  the  porous  globe, 

Had  long  ere  now  forsook  his  horrid  bed, 

And  brought  Deucalion's  watery  times  again.          770 

Say  then,  where  lurk  the  vast  eternal  springs, 
That,  like  creating  Nature  lie  conceal'd 
From  mortal  eye,  yet  with  their  lavish  stores 
Refresh  the  globe  and  all  its  joyous  tribes  ! 
O  thou  pervading  Genius,  given  to  man,  775 

To  trace  the  secrets  of  the  dark  abyss, 
O,  lay  the  mountains  bare  !  and  wide  display 
Their  hidden  structure  to  the'  astcnish'd  view  ! 
Strip  from  the  branchi  ig  Alps  their  piny  load  j 
The  huge  incumbrance  of  horrific  woods  780 


AUTUMN.  105 

From  Asian  Taurus,  from  Imaus  stretch'd 
Athwart  the  roving  Tartar's  sullen  bounds  ! 
Give  opening  Hemus  to  my  searching  eye, 
And  high  Olympus  pouring  many  a  stream  ' 
O,  from  the  sounding  summits  of  the  north,  785 

The  Dorfrine  hills,  through  Scandinavia  roU'd 
To  farthest  Lapland  and  the  frozen  main  j 
From  lofty  Caucasus  far  seen  by  those 
Who  in  the  Caspian  and  black  Euxine  toil ; 
F-orn  cold  Riphean  rocks,  which  the  wild  Rues      790 
Relieves  the  stony  girdle*  of  the  world  : 
And  all  the  dreadful  mountains,  wrapp'd  in  storm, 
Whence  wide  Siberia  draws  her  lonely  floods  ; 
O,  sweep  the'  eternal  snows  '  Hung  o'er  the  deep, 
That  ever  works  beneath  his  sounding  base,  795 

Bid  Atlas,  propping  Heaven,  as  poets  feign, 
His  subterranean  wonders  spread  !  unveil 
The  miny  caverns,  blazing  on  the  day, 
Of  Abyssinia's  cloud-compelling  cliffs, 
And  of  the  bending  Mountains!  of  the  Moon  !          800 
O'ertopping  all  these  giant  sons  of  earth, 
Let  the  dire  Andes,  from  the  radiant  line 
Stretch'd  to  the  stormy  seas  that  thunder  round 
The  southern  pole,  their  hideous  deeps  unfold  ! 
Amazing  scene  !  behold !  the  glooms  disclose,         805 
1  see  the  rivers  in  tlieir  infant  beds ! 
Deep,  deep  I  hear  them  labouring  to  get  free  , 
I  see  the  leaning  strata,  artful  ranged ; 
The  gaping  fissures  to  receive  the  rains, 
The  melting  snows,  and  ever  dripping  fogs.  810 

Strow'd  bibulous  above  I  see  the  sands, 
The  pebbly  gravel  next,  the  layers  then 
Of  mingled  moulds,  of  more  retentive  earths, 
The  gutter'd  rocks  and  mazy-running  clefts , 

*  The  Muscovites  call  the  Riphean  Mountains  Wdiki  Ca- 
metnjpoijs ;  that  is,  the  great  stonij  Girdle  :  because  they  sup 
pose  them  to  encompass  the  whole  earth. 

t  A  range  of  mountains  in  Africa,  that  surround  almoit  ait 
Monomotapa. 


*°6  AUTUMN. 

That,  while  the  stealing  moisture  they  transmit,     815 

Retard  its  motion  and  forbid  its  waste. 

Beneath  the'  incessant  weeping  of  these  drains, 

I  see  the  rocky  siphons  stretch'd  immense, 

The  mighty  reservoirs,  of  harden'd  chalk, 

Or  stiff  compacted  clay,  capacious  form'd'-  890 

O'erflowing  thence,  the  congregated  stores, 

The  crystal  treasures  of  the  liquid  world, 

Through  the  stirr'd  sands  a  bubbling  passage  burot , 

And,  welling  out,  around  the  middle  steep, 

Or  from  the  bottoms  of  the  bosom'd  hills,  825 

In  pure  effusion  flow.     United,  thus, 

The'  exhaling  sun,  the  vapour-burden'd  air, 

The  gelid  mountains,  that  to  rain  condensed 

These  vapours  in  continual  current  draw, 

And  send  them,  o'er  the  fair-divided  earth,  830 

In  bounteous  rivers  to  the  deep  again, 

A  social  commerce  hold,  and  firm  support 

The  full  adjusted  harmony  of  things. 

When  Autumn  scatters  his  departing  gleams, 
Warn'd  of  approaching  Winter,  gather 'd,  play        835 
The  swallow-people ;  and,  toss'd  wide  around, 
O'er  the  calm  sky,  in  convolution  swift, 
The  feather'd  eddy  floats  :  rejoicing  once, 
Ere  to  their  wintry  slumbers  they  retire  ; 
In  clusters  clung,  beneath  the  mouldering  bank,     840 
And  where,  unpierced  by  frost,  the  cavern  sweats. 
Or  rather  into  warmer  climes  convey'd, 
With  other  kindred  birds  of  season,  there 
They  twitter  cheerful,  till  the  vernal  months 
Invite  them  welcome  back  :  for,  thronging,  now    845 
Innumerous  wings  are  in  commotion  all. 

Where  the  Rhine  loses  his  majestic  force 
In  Belgian  plains,  won  from  the  raging  deep, 
By  diligence  amazing  and  the  strong 
Unconquerable  hand  of  Liberty  ;  Q5Q 

The  stork-assembly  meets  ;  for  many  a  day, 
Consulting  deep,  and  various,  ere  they  take 


AUTUMN.  107 

Their  arduous  voyage  through  the  liquid  sky. 
And  now  their  route  design'd,  their  leaders  chose, 
Their  tribes  adjusted,  clean'd  their  vigorous  wings ', 
And  many  a  circle,  many  a  short  essay,  856 

Wheel'd  round  arid  round,  in  congregation  full 
The  figured  flight  ascends  ;  and,  riding  high 
The'  aerial  billows,  mixes  with  the  clouds. 

Or  where  the  Northern  ocean,  in  vast  whirls,     860 
Boils  round  the  naked  melancholy  isles 
Of  furthest  Thule,  and  the'  Atlantic  surge 
Pours  in  among  the  stormy  Hebrides  ; 
Who  can  recount  what  transmigrations  there 
Are  annual  made  ?  what  nations  come  and  go  ?      865 
And  how  the  living  clouds  on  clouds  arise  ? 
Infinite  wings  !  till  all  the  plume-dark  air, 
And  rude  resounding  shore  are  one  wild  cry. 

Here  the  plain  harmless  native  his  small  flock, 
And  herd  diminutive  of  many  hues,  870 

Tends  on  the  little  island's  verdant  swell, 
The  shepherd's  seagirt  reign ;  or,  to  the  rocks 
Dire-clinging,  gathers  his  ovarious  food  ; 
Or  sweeps  the  fishy  shore  !  or  treasures  up 
The  plumage,  rising  full,  to  form  the  bed  875 

Of  luxury.    And  here  awhile  the  muse, 
High  hovering  o'er  the  broad  cerulean  scene, 
Sees  Caledonia,  in  romantic  view  : 
Her  airy  mountains,  from  the  waving  main, 
Invested  with  a  keen  diffusive  sky,  880 

Breathing  the  soul  acute  ;  her  forests  huge, 
Incult,  robust,  and  tall,  by  Nature's  hand 
Planted  of  old  ;  her  azure  lakes  between, 
Pour'd  out  extensive,  and  of  watery  wealth 
Full ;  winding  deep,  and  green,  her  fertile  vales ;  88t 
With  many  a  cool  translucent  brimming  flood 
Wash'd  lovely,  from  the  Tweed  (pure  parent  stream 
Whose  pastoral  banks  first  heard  my  Doric  reed, 
With,  silvan  Jed,  thy  tributary  brook) 
To  where  the  north-inflated  tempest  foams  89 


108  AUTUMN. 

O'er  Orca's  or  Betubium's  highest  peak : 

Nurse  of  a  people,  in  Misfortune's  school 

Train'd  up  to  hardy  deeds  ;  soon  visited 

By  Learning,  when  before  the  gothic  rage 

She  took  her  western  flight.     A  manly  race  895 

Of  unsubmitting  spirit,  wise,  and  brave  ; 

Who  still  through  bleeding  ages  struggled  hard, 

(As  well  unhappy  Wallace  can  attest, 

Great  patriot  hero!  ill  requited  chief!) 

To  hold  a  generous  undiminish'd  state  ;  900 

Too  much  in  vain  '  Hence  of  unequal  bound* 

Impatient,  and  by  tempting  glory  borne 

O'er  every  land,  for  every  land  their  life 

Has  flow'd  profuse,  their  piercing  genius  plann'd, 

And  swell'd  the  pomp  of  peace  their  faithful  toil,    905 

As  from  their  own  clear  north,  in  radiant  streams, 

Bright  over  Europe  bursts  the  boreal  morn. 

Oh  !  is  there  not  some  patriot,  in  whose  power 
That  best,  that  godlikp,  luxury  is  placed, 
Of  blessing  thousands,  thousands  yet  unborn,          910 
Through  late  posterity  ?  some,  large  of  soul, 
To  cheer  dejected  industry?  to  give 
A  double  harvest  to  the  pining  swain  ? 
And  teach  the  labouring  hand  the  sweets  of  toil  ? 
How,  by  the  finest  art,  the  native  robe  915 

To  weave ;  how,  white  as  hyperborean  snow, 
To  form  the  lucid  lawn ;  with  venturous  oar 
How  to  dash  wide  the  billow ;  nor  look  on, 
Shamefully  passive,  while  Batavian  fleets 
Defraud  us  of  the  glittering  finny  swarms,  920 

That  heave  our  friths  and  crowd  upon  our  shores  j 
How  all -enlivening  trade  to  rouse,  and  wing 
The  prosperous  sail,  from  every  growing  port, 
Uninjured,  round  the  sea-encircled  globe  ; 
And  thus,  in  soul  united  as  in  name,  925 

Bid  Britain  reign  the  mistress  of  the  deep? 

Yes,  there  are  such.     And  full  on  thee,  Argyle 
Her  hope,  her  stay,  her  darling,  and  her  boast. 


AUTUMN.  109 

From  her  first  patriots  and  her  heroes  sprung, 
Thy  fond  imploring  country  turns  her  eye ;  930 

In  thee,  with  all  a  mother's  triumph,  sees 
Her  every  virtue,  every  grace  combined, 
Her  genius,  wisdom,  her  engaging  turn, 
Her  pride  of  honour,  and  her  courage  tried, 
Calm,  and  intrepid,  in  the  very  throat  938 

Of  sulphurous  war,  on  Tenier's  dreadful  field. 
Nor  less  the  palm  of  peace  inwreathes  thy  brow. 
For,  powerful  as  thy  sword,  from  thy  rich  tongue 
Persuasion  flows,  and  wins  the  high  debate  ; 
While  rnix'd  in  thee  combine  the  charm  of  youth,  940 
The  force  of  manhood,  and  the  depth  of  age. 
Thee,  Forbes,  too,  whom  every  worth  attends, 
As  truth  sincere,  as  weeping  friendship  kind, 
Thee,  truly  generous,  and  in  silence  great, 
Thy  country  feels  through  her  reviving  arts,          945 
Plann'd  by  thy  wisdom,  by  thy  soul  inform'd  ; 
And  seldom  has  she  known  a  friend  like  thee. 

But  see  the  fading  many  colour 'd  woods, 
Shade  deepening  over  shade,  the  country  round 
Imbrown ;  a  crowded  umbrage,  dusk,  and  dun,       950 
Of  every  hue,  frcm  wan  declining  green 
To  sooty  dark.     These  now  the  lonesome  Muse, 
Low  whispering,  lead  into  their  leaf-strown  walks, 
Arcl  give  the  Season  in  its  latest  view. 

Meantime,  light-shadowing  all,  a  sober  calm        95fi 
Fleeces  unbounded  ether  :  whose  least  wave 
Stands  tremulous,  uncertain  where  to  turn 
The  gentle  current :  while  illumined  wide,, 
The  dewy-skirted  clouds  imbibe  the  sun, 
And  through  their  lucid  veil  his  soften'd  force         960 
Shed  o'er  the  peaceful  world.     Then  is  the  time. 
For  those  whom  Wisdom  and  whom  Nature  charm, 
To  steal  themselves  from  the  degenerate  crowd, 
And  soar  above  this  little  scene  of  things  : 
To  tread  low-thoughted  Vice  beneath  their  feet :    966 
10 


110  AUTUMN. 

To  sooth  the  throbbing  passions  into  peace  ; 

And  woo  lone  Quiet  in  her  silent  walks. 

Thus  solitary,  and  in  pensive  guise, 
Oft.  let  me  wander  o'er  the  russet  mead, 
And  through  the  sadden'd  grove,  where  scarce  is  heard 
One  dying  strain,  to  cheer  the  woodman's  toil.        971 
Haply  some  widow'd  songster  pours  his  plaint, 
Far,  in  faint  warblings,  through  the  tawny  copse  • 
While  congregated  thrushes,  linnets,  larks, 
And  each  wild  throat,  whose  artless  strains  so  late 
Swell'd  all  the  music  of  the  swarming  shaxles,         976 
Robb'd  of  their  tuneful  souls,  now  shivering  sit 
On  the  dead  tree,  a  dull  despondent  flocK ; 
With  not  a  brightness  waving  o'er  their  plumes, 
And  nought  save  chattering  discord  in  their  note.  980 
O,  let  not,  airn'd  from  some  inhuman  eye, 
The  gun  the  music  of  the  coming  year 
Destroy  ;  and  harmless,  unsuspecting  harm, 
Lay  the  weak  tribes  a  miserable  prey, 
In  mingled  murder,  fluttering  on  the  ground !         985 

The  pale-descending  year,  yet  pleasing  still, 
A  gentler  mood  inspires  ;  for  now  the  leaf 
Incessant  rustles  from  the  mournful  grove  ; 
Oft  startling  such  as,  studious,  walk  below, 
And  slowly  circles  through  the  waving  air.  990 

But  should  a  quicker  breeze  amid  the  boughs 
Sob,  o'er  the  sky  the  leafy  deluge  streams  ; 
Till,  choked  and  matted  with  the  dreary  shower, 
The  forest-walks,  at  every  rising  gale, 
Roll  wide  the  wither'd  waste,  and  whistle  bleak.     99£ 
Fled  is  the  blasted  verdure  of  the  fields  ; 
And,  shrunk  into  their  beds,  the  flowery  race 
Their  sunny  robes  resign.     E'en  what  remain'd 
Of  ptronger  fruits  falls  from  the  naked  tree  ; 
And  woods,  fields,  gardens,  orchards,  all  around    1000 
The  desolated  prospect  thrills  the  soul. 

He  comes !  he  comes  !  in  every  breeze  the  Power 


AUTUMN.  Ill 

Of  philosophic  Melancholy  comes  ! 
His  near  approach  the  sudden-starting  tear, 
The  glowing  cheek,  the  mild  dejected  air,  1005 

The  soften 'd  feature,  and  the  beating  heart, 
Pierced  deep  with  many  a  virtuous  pang,  declare. 
O'er  all  the  soul  his  sacred  influence  breathes . 
Inflames  imagination  ;  through  the  breast 
Infuses  every  tenderness  ;  and  far  1010 

Beyond  dim  earth  exalts  the  swelling  thought 
Ten  thousand  thousand  fleet  ideas,  such 
As  never  mingled  with  the  vulgar  dream, 
Crowd  fast  into  the  mind's  creative  eye. 
As  fast  the  correspondent  passions  rise,  1015 

As  varied,  and  as  high:  Devotion  raised 
To  rapture  and  divine  astonishment ; 
The  love  of  Nature,  unconfined,  and,  chief, 
Of  human  race  ;  the  large  ambitious  wish, 
To  make  them  bless'd  ;  the  sigh  for  suffering  worth 
Lost  in  obscurity  ;  the  noble  scorn  1021 

Of  tyrant  pride  ;  the  fearless  great  resolve  ; 
The  wonder  which  the  dying  patriot  draws, 
Inspiring  glory  through  remotest  time  ; 
The'  awaken'd  throb  for  virtue  and  for  fame  ;        1025 
The  sympathies  of  love  and  friendship  dear  • 
With  all  the  social  offspring  of  the  heart. 

Oh  !  bear  me  then  to  vast  embowering  shades, 
To  twilight  groves,  and  visionary  vales  ; 
To  weeping  grottoes,  and  prophetic  glooms  ;          1030 
Where  angel  forms  athwart  the  solemn  dusk 
Tremendous  sweep,  or  seem  to  sweep  along  ; 
And  voices  more  than  human,  through  the  void 
Deep  sounding,  seize  the'  enthusiastic  ear ! 

Or  is  this  gloom  too  much  ?  Then  lead,  ye  powers, 
That  o'er  the  garden  and  the  rural  seat  lO'Jfl 

Preside,  which  shining  through  the  cheerful  land 
In  countless  numbers  bless'd  Britannia  sees ; 
O,  lead  me  to  Uie  wide  extended  walks, 


112  AUTUMN. 

The  fair  majeutic  paradise  of  Stowe  !*  10-10 

Not  Persian  Cyrus  on  Ionia's  shore 

K'er  saw  such  silvan  scenes  ;  such  various  art 

By  genius  fired,  such  ardent  genius  tamed 

By  cool  judicious  art ;  that,  in  the  strife 

All-beauteous  Nature  fears  to  he  undone  1045 

And  there,  O  Pitt,  thy  country's  early  boast, 

There  let  me  sit  beneath  the  shelter'd  slopes, 

Or  in  that  Templel  where,  in  future  times, 

Thou  well  shalt  merit  a  distinguished  name  ; 

And,  with  thy  converse  bless'd,  catch  the  last  smiles 

Of  Autumn  beaming  o'er  the  yellow  woods.  1057 

While  there  with  thee  the'  enchanted  round  I  walk. 

The  regulated  wild,  gay  Fancy  then 

Will  tread  in  thought  the  groves  of  attic  land  ; 

Will  from  thy  standard  taste  refine  her  own,         1055 

Correct  her  pencil  to  the  purest  truth 

Of  Nature,  or,  the  unimpassion'd  shades 

Forsaking,  raise  it  to  the  human  mind. 

Or  if  hereafter  she,  with  justcr  hand, 

Shall  draw  the  tragic  scene,  instruct  her,  thou,    1060 

To  mark  the  varied  movements  of  the  heart, 

What  every  decent  character  requires, 

And  every  passion  speaks:  O,  through  her  strain 

Breathe  thy  pathetic  eloquence  !  that  moulds 

The'  attentive  senate,  charms,  persuades,  exalts,  IOCS 

Of  honest  Zeal  the'  indignant  lightning  throws, 

And  shakes  Corruption  on  her  venal  throne. 

While  thus  we  talk,  and  through  Elysian  vales 

Delighted  rove,  perhaps  a  sigh  escapes 

What  pity,  Cobham,  thou  thy  verdant  files  1070 

Of  order'd  trees  shouldst  here  inglorious  range, 

Instead  of  squadrons  flaming  o'er  the  field, 

And  long  embattled  hosts !  when  the  proud  foe, 

The  faithless  vain  disturber  of  mankind, 

*  The  seat  of  Lord  Cobharn. 
t  The  Temple  of  Virtue  in  Stowe  Gardens. 


AUTUMN.  113 

Insulting  Gaul,  has  roused  the  world  to  war ;        1075 
When  keen,  once  more,  within  their  bounds  to  press 
Those  polish 'd  robbers,  those  ambitious  slaves, 
The  British  youth  would  hail  thy  wise  command, 
Thy  temper'd  ardour,  and  thy  veteran  skill. 

The  western  sun  withdraws  the  shorten'd  day  ; 
And  humid  Evening,  gliding  o'er  the  sky,  1081 

fo  her  chill  progress,  to  the  ground  condensed 
Yhe  vapours  throws.     Where  creeping  waters  ooze, 
Where  marshes  stagnate,  and  where  rivers  wind, 
Cluster  the  rolling  fogs,  and  swim  along  1085 

The  dusky  mantled  lawn.     Meanwhile  the  Moon 
Full-orb'd,  and  breaking  through  the  scatter'd  clouds, 
Shows  her  broad  visage  in  the  crimson  east. 
Turn'd  to  the  sun  direct,  her  spotted  disk, 
Where  mountains  rise,  umbrageous  dales  descend, 
And  caverns  deep,  as  optic  tube  descries,  1001 

A  smaller  earth,  gives  us  his  blaze  again, 
Void  of  its  flame,  and  sheds  a  softer  day. 
Now  through  the  passing  cloud  she  seems  to  stoop, 
Now  up  the  pure  cerulean  rides  sublime.  1095 

Wide  the  pale  deluge  floats,  and  streaming  mild 
O  er  the  skied  mountain  to  the  shadowy  vale, 
While  rocks  and  floods  reflect  the  quivering  gleam, 
The  whole  air  whitens  with  a  boundless  tide 
Of  silver  radiance,  trembling  round  the  world.       1100 

But  when,  half  blotted  from  the  sky,  her  light, 
Fainting,  permits  the  starry  fires  to  burn 
With  keener  lustre  through  the-  depth  of  heaven ; 
Or  near  extinct  her  deaden'd  orb  appears, 
And  scarce  appears,  of  sickly  beamless  white ;       1105 
Oft  in  this  season,  silent  from  the  north 
A  blaze  of  meteors  shoots  ;  ensweeping  first 
The  lower  skies,  they  all  at  once  converge 
High  to  the  crown  of  heaven,  and  all  at  once 
Relapsing  quick,  as  quickly  reascend,  111Q 

^nd  mix  and  thwart,  extinguish  and  renew, 
Vll  ether  coursing  in  a  maze  of  light. 
10* 


114  AUTUMN. 

From  look  to  look,  contagious  through  the  crowd. 
The  panic  runs,  and  into  wondrous  shapes 
The'  appearance  throws :  armies  in  meet  array,    1115 
Throng  d  with  aerial  spears  and  steeds  of  fire, 
Till  the  long  lines  of  full  extended  war 
In  bleeding  fight  commix'd,  the  sanguine  flood 
Rolls  a  broad  slaughter  o'er  the  plains  of  heaven. 
As  thus  they  scan  the  visionary  scene,  1120 

On  all  sides  swells  the  superstitious  din, 
Incontinent ;  and  busy  frenzy  talks 
Of  blood  and  battle  ;  citiesoverturn'd, 
And  late  at  night  in  swallowing  earthquake  sunk, 
Or  hideous  wrapp'd  in  fierce  ascending  flame  j      1125 
Of  sallow  famine,  inundation,  storm  : 
Of  pestilence,  and  every  great  distress; 
Empires  subversed,  when  ruling  fate  has  struck 
The'  unalterable  hour  :  e'en  Nature's  self 
Is  deem'd  to  totter  on  the  brink  of  time.  1130 

Not  so  the  man  of  philosophic  eye, 
And  inspect  sage  ;  the  waving  brightness  he 
Curious  surveys,  inquisitive  to  know 
The  causes  and  materials,  yet  unfix'd, 
Of  this  appearance  beautiful  and  new.  1135 

Now  black  and  deep  the  night  begins  to  fall, 
A  shade  immense.     Sunk  in  the  quenching  gloom. 
Magnificent  and  vast,  are  heaven  and  earth. 
Order  confounded  lies  ;  all  beauty  void  ; 
Distinction  lost ;  and  gay  variety  1140 

One  universal  blot :  such  the  fair  power 
Of  light,  to  kindle  and  create  the  whole. 
Drear  is  the  state  of  the  benighted  wretch, 
Who  then,  bewilder'd,  wanders  through  the  dark, 
Full  of  pale  fancies  and  chimeras  huge  ;  1145 

Nor  visited  by  one  directive  ray, 
From  cottage  streaming  or  from  airy  hall. 
Perhaps  impatient  as  he  stumbles  on, 
Struck  fiom  the  root  of  slimy  rushes,  blue, 
The  wildfire  scatters  round,  or  gather'd  trails        1150 


AUTUMN.  H5 

A.  length  of  flame  deceitful  orer  the  moss  : 
Whither  decoy 'd  by  the' fantastic  blaze, 
Now  lost  and  now  renew'd,  he  sinks  absorb'd, 
Rider  and  horse,  amid  the  miry  gulf: 
Wnile  still,  from  day  to  day,  his  pining  wife          1155 
And  plaintive  children  his  return  await, 
In  wild  conjecture  lost.     At  other  times, 
Sent  by  the  better  genius  of  the  night, 
Innoxious,  gleaming  on  the  horse's  mane, 
The  meteor  sits  ;  and  shows  the  narrow  path,       1160 
That  winding  leads  through  pits  of  death,  or  else 
Instructs  him  how  to  take  the  dangerous  ford. 

The  lengthen'd  night  elapsed,  the  Morning  shines 
Serene,  in  all  her  dewy  beauty  bright, 
Unfolding  fair  the  last  autumnal  day.  1165 

And  now  the  mounting  sun  dispels  the  fog  ; 
The  rigid  hoar-frost  metis  before  his  beam ; 
And  hung  on  every  spray,  on  every  blade 
Of  grass,  the  myriad  dew-drops  twinkle  round.     1169 

Ah,  see  where,  robb'd  and  murder'd,  in  that  pit 
Lies  the  still  heaving  hive  !  at  evening  snatch'd, 
Beneath  the  cloud  of  guilt-concealing  night, 
And  fix'd  o'er  sulphur  :  while,  not  dreaming  ill, 
The  happy  people,  in  their  waxen  cells, 
Sat  tending  public  cares,  and  planning  schemes    1173 
Of  temperance,  for  Winter  poor  ;  rejoiced 
To  mark,  full  flowing  round,  their  copious  stores. 
Sudden  the  dark  oppressive  steam  ascends ; 
And,  used  to  milder  scents,  the  tender  race, 
By  thousands,  tumble  from  their  honied  domes,    1180 
Convolved,  arid  agonizing  in  the  dust. 
And  was  it  then  for  this  you  rcau'd  the  Spring, 
Intent  from  flower  to  flower  ?  for  this  you  toil'd 
Ceaseless  the  burning  Summer  heats  away  ? 
For  this  in  Autumn  search'd  the  blooming  waste, 
Nox  lost  ona  sunny  gleam  ?  for  this  sad  fate  ?         1186 
O  Man!  tyrannic  lord !  how  long* how  long 
Shall  prostrate  JNature  groan  beneath  your  rage, 


116  AUTUMN 

A^aitingj^eno^ 

Must  you  destroy  ?  of  their  ambrosial  food  1190 

Can  you  not  borrow  ;  and,  in  just  return 

Afford  them  shelter  from  the  wintry  winds  ; 

Or,  as  the  sharp  year  pinches,  with  their  own 

Again  regale  them  on  some  smiling  day  ? 

See  where  the  stony  bottom  of  their  town  1195 

Looks  desolate  and  wild  ;  with  here  and  there 

A  helpless  number,  who  the  ruin'd  state 

Survive,  lamenting  weak,  cast  out  to  death. 

Thus  a  proud  city,  populous  and  rich, 

Full  of  the  works  of  peace,  and  high  in  joy,  1200 

At  theatre  or  feast,  or  sunk  in  sleep, 

(As  late,  Palermo,  was  thy  fate)  is  seized 

By  some  dread  earthquake,  and  convulsive  hurl'd 

Sheer  from  the  black  foundation,  stench-involved, 

Into  a  gulf  of  blue  sulphureous  flame.  1205 

Hence  every  harsher  sight !  for  now  the  day, 
O'er  heaven  and  earth  diffused,  grows  warm  and  high. 
Infinite  splendour  !  wide  investing  all. 
How  still  the  breeze  !  save  what  the  filmy  threads 
Of  dew  evaporate  brushes  from  the  plain. 
How  clear  the  cloudless  sky  !  how  deeply  tinged 
With  a  peculiar  blue  !  the'  etherial  arch 
How  swell'd  immense  !  amid  whose  azure  throned 
The  radiant  sun  how  gay  !  how  calm  below 
The  gilded  earth !  the  harvest  treasures  all  1215 

Now  gather'd  in,  beyond  the  rage  of  storms, 
Sure  to  the  swain  ;  the  circling  fence  shut  up  ; 
And  instant  Winter's  utmost  rage  defied. 
While,  loose  to  festive  joy,  the  country  round 
Laughs  with  the  loud  sincerity  of  mirth,  1220 

Shook  to  the  wind  their  cares.  The  toil-strung  youth, 
By  the  quick  sense  of  music  taught  alone, 
Leaps  wildly  graceful  in  the  lively  dance. 
Her  every  charm  abroad,  the  village-toast, 
Young,  buxom,  warm,  in  native  beauty  rich,          1225 
DarU  not  unmeaning  looks ;  and  where  her  eye 


AUTUMN.  H> 

Points  an  approving  smile,  with  double  force, 
The  cudgel  rattles,  and  the  wrestler  twines. 
Age  too  shines  out ;  and,  garrulous,  recounts 
The  feats  of  youth.     Thus  they  rejoice  ;  nor  think 
That,  with  to-morrow's  sun,  their  annual  toil         1231 
Begins  again  the  never  ceasing  round. 

Oh,  knew  he  but  his  happiness,  of  men 
The  happiest  he  !  who  far  from  public  rage, 
Deep  in  the  vale,  with  a  choice  few  retired,  1235 

Drinks  the  pure  pleasures  of  the  Rural  Life. 
What  though  the  dome  be  wanting,  whose  proud  gate, 
Each  morning,  vomits  out  the  sneaking  crowd 
Of  flatterers  false,  and  in  their  turn  abused  ? 
Vile  intercourse  !  what  though  the  glittering  robe 
Of  every  hue  reflected  light  can  give, 
Or  floating  loose,  or  stiff  with  mazy  gold, 
The  pride  and  gaze  of  fools  !  oppress  him  not  ? 
What  Chough,  from  utmost  land  and  sea  purvey'd, 
For  him  each  rarer  tributary  life  1145 

Bleeds  not,  and  his  insatiate  table  heaps 
With  luxury,  and  death  ?  What  though  his  bowl 
Flames  not  with  costly  juice  ;  nor  sunk  in  beds, 
Oft  of  gay  care,  he  tosses  out  the  night, 
Or  melts  the  thoughtless  hours  in  idle  state  ?         1250 
What  though  he  knows  not  those  fantastic  joys 
That  still  amuse  the  wanton,  still  deceive  ; 
A  face  of  pleasure,  but  a  heart  of  pain  ; 
Their  hollow  moments  undelighted  all  ? 
Sure  peace  is  his ;  a  solid  life,  estranged  1255 

To  disappointment,  and  fallacious  hope  : 
Rich  in  content,  in  Nature's  bounty  rich, 
In  herbs  and  fruits  ;  whatever  greens  the  Spring, 
When  heaven  descends  in  showers;  or  bends  the  bough 
When  Summer  reddens,  and  when  Autumn  beams  ; 
Or  in  the  wintry  glebe  whatever  lies  126 

Conceal'd,  and  fattens  with  the  richest  sap  : 
These  are  not  wanting ;  nor  the  milky  drove, 
Luxuriant,  spread  o'er  all  the  lowing  vale  ; 


118  AUTUMN. 

Nor   bleating  mountains  ;  nor  the  chide  of  streams, 

And  hum  of  bees,  inviting  sleep  sincere 

Into  the  guiltless  breast,  beneath  the  shade, 

Or  thrown  at  large  amid  the  fragrant  hay  ; 

Nor  aught  besides  of  prospect,  grove,  or  song, 

Dim  grottoes,  gleaming  lakes,  and  fountain  clear. 

Here  too  dwells  simple  Truth  ;  plain  Innocence  ;  127J 

Unsullied  Beauty  ;  sound  unbroken  Youth, 

Patient  of  labour,  with  a  little  pleased  ; 

Health  ever  blooming  ;  unambitious  Toil , 

Calm  Contemplation,  and  poetic  Ease.  1275 

Let  others  brave  the  flood  in  quest  of  gain, 
And  beat,  for  joyless  months,  the  gloomy  wave 
Let  such  as  deem  it  glory  to  destroy, 
Rush  into  blood,  the  sack  of  cities  seek  ; 
Unpierced,  exulting  in  the  widow's  wail,  1280 

The  virgin's  shriek,  and  infant's  trembling  cry. 
Let  some,  far  distant  from  their  native  soil, 
Urged  or  by  want  or  harden'd  avarice, 
Find  other  lands  beneath  another  sun. 
Let  this  through  cities  work  his  eager  way,          1285 
By  legal  outrage  and  establish'd  guile, 
The  social  sense  extinct ;  and  that  ferment 
Mad  into  tumult  the  seditious  herd, 
Or  melt  them  down  to  slavery.     Let  these 
Insnare  the  wretched  in  the  toils  o£lavsf, . .  1290 

Fomenting  discord,  and  perplexing  right, 
An  iron  race  !  and  those  of  fairer  fronty 
Rut  pqmj  ^nhumaniCVf  in  Eflilrt*1!  — 
Del  usive  ponqp  and  dark  cabals,  delight ; 
Wreathe  the  deep  jow,  flip"**  *ha  IjTJ"?  a™j1»,     120h 
And  tread~ffie  wfiarjQabyjrinth  of  state. 
While  he,  from  all  the  stormy" p"ossTons  free 
That  restless  men  involve,  hears,  and  but  hears, 
At  distance  safe,  the  human  tempest  roar, 
Wrapp'd  close  \n  conscious  peace.     The  fall  of  kings, 
The  rage  of  nations,  and  the  crush  of  states  1301 

Move  not  the  man  who,  from  the  woild  escaped, 


AUTUMN.  119 

In  still  retreats,  and  flowery  solitudes, 
To  Nature's  voice  attends,  from  month  to  month 
And  day  to  day,  through  the  revolving  year  :         1305 
Admiring,  sees  her  in  her  every  shape  ; 
Feels  all  her  sweet  emotions  at  his  heart ; 
Tukes  what  she  liberal  gives,  nor  thinks  of  more. 
lie,  when  young  Spring  protrudes  the  bursting  gems, 
Marks  the  first  bud,  and  sucks  the  healthful  gale  1310 
Into  his  freshen'd  soul ;  her  genial  hours 
He  full  enjoys  ;  and  not  a  beauty  blows, 
And  not  an  opening  blossom  breathes  in  vain, 
In  Summer  he,  beneath  the  living  shade, 
Such  as  o'er  frigid  Tempo  wont  to  wave,  1315 

Or  Heinus  cool,  reads  what  the  Muse,  of  these, 
Perhaps,  is  in  immortal  numbers  sung  ; 
Or  what  she  dictates  writes  :  and,  oft  an  eye 
Shot  round,  «ejoices  in  the  vigorous  year. 
When  Autumn's  yellow  lustre  gilds  the  world,      1320 
And  tempts  the  sickled  swain  into  the  field, 
Seized  by  the  general  joy,  his  heart  distends 
With  gentle  throes  ;  and,  through  the  tepid  gleams 
Deep  musing,  then  he  best  exerts  his  song. 
E'en  Winter  wild  to  him  is  full  of  bliss.  1325 

The  mighty  tempest,  and  the  hoary  waste, 
Abrupt,  and  deep,  stretch'd  o'er  the  buried  earth, 
Awake  to  solemn  thought.     At  night  the  skies, 
Disc.osed,  and  kindled,  by  refining  frost, 
Pour  every  lustre  on  tne'  exalted  eye.  1330 

A  friend,  a  book,  the  stealing  hours  secure, 
And  mark  them  down  for  wisdom.    With  swift  wing 
O'er  land  and  sea  imagination  roams ; 
Or  truth,  divinely  breaking  on  his  mind, 
Elates  his  being,  and  unfolds  bis  powers  ;  1335 

Or  in  his  breast  heroic  virtue  burns. 
The  touch  of  kindred  too  and  love  he  feels  •, 
The  modest  eye,  whose  beams  on  his  alone- 
Ecstatic  shine  ;  the  little  strong  embrace 
Of  prattling  children,  twined  around  his  neck,       1340 


£20  AUTUMN. 

And  emulous  to  please  him,  calling  forth 
The  fond  parental  soul.     Norj>urpose 
Amusement,  dance,  or  song>Jie.-stfir»ly-*eeriw  }- 

For  happiness  and  trua-philosophy 

Are-T^f-the  social,  still,  and  smiling  kind.  134b 

This  islhe  life  which  those  who  fret  in  guilt, 

And  guilty  cities,  never  knew  ;  the  life, 

Led  by  primeval  ages,  uncorrupt, 

When  Angels  dwelt,  and  GOD  himself  with  Man  ! 

Qh  Nature  !  all  sufficient !  over  all  !  1350 

Enrich  md  witnlHe  knowledge  of  thy^works  ! 
SrTatch-Tne  to' heaven  ;  thy  rolling  wonders  there 
Wuild  beyond  woild,  in  innnite  extent, 
Profusely  scatterM-o'+jr  the  bine  immense, 
Show  me  ;  their  motions^  periods,  and  their  laws, 
Give  me  to  scan  ;  through  the  disclosing  deep     135<S 
Light  my  blind  way  ;  the  mineral  strata  there  ; 
Thrust,  blooming,  thence  the  vegetable  worhi ; 
O'er  that  the  rising  system,  more  complex, 
Of  animals  ;  and  higher  still,  the  mind,  1360 

The  varied  scene  of  quick-compounded  thought, 
And  where  the  mixing  passions  endless  shift ; 
These  ever  open  to  my  ravish'd  eye ; 
A  scearch,  the  flight  of  time  can  ne'er  exhaust ! 
But  if  to  that  unequal ;  if  the  blood,  13C6 

In  sluggish  streams  about  my  heart,  forbid 
That  best  ambition  ;  under  closing  shades, 
Inglorious,  lay  me  by  the  lowly  brook, 

And  whisper  to  my  dreams.     From  Thee-begiiJj 

Dwell  all  on  Thee,  with  Thee  conclude  my  song  , 
And  lot  me  never,  never  stray  from  Thoe  .'  1371 


WINTER. 


TLe  subject  proposal.  Address  to  the  Earl  of  Wilmington.  First 
approach  of  Winter.  According  to  the  natural  course  of  tha 
Beason,  various  storms  described.  Rain.  Wind.  Snow.  The 
driving  of  the  snows;  a  man  perishing  among  them  ;'  whence  re 
flections  on  the  wants  and  miseries  of  human  life.  The  wolvos 
descending  from  the  Alps  and  Apennines.  A  winter-evening 
described;  as  spent  by  philosophers;  by  the  country  people;  in 
the  city.  Frost.  A  view  of  Winter  within  the  polar  circle.  A 
thaw.  The  whole  concluding  with  moral  reflections  on  a  future 


state. 


SEE,  WINTER  comes,  to  rule  the  varied  year, 

Sullen  and  sad,  with  all  his  rising  train  ; 

Vapours,  and  Clouds,  and  Storms.    Be  these  my  theme, 

These  !  that  exalt  the  soul  to  solemn  thought, 

And  heavenly  musing.     Welcome,  kindred  glooms,  5 

Congenial  horrors,  hail !  with  frequent  foot. 

Pleased  have  I,  in  my  cheerf-il  morn  of  life, 

When  nursed  by  careless  Solitude  I  lived, 

And  sung  of  Nature  with  unceasing  joy, 

Pleased  have  I  wander'd  through  your  rough  domain  ; 

Trod  the  pure  virgin-snows,  myself  as  pure  ;  11 

Heard  the  winds  roar,  and  the  big  torrent  burst ; 

Or  seen  the  deep-fermenting  tempest  brew'd, 

In  the  grirn  evening  sky.     Thus  pass'd  the  time, 

Till  through  the  lucid  chambers  of  the  south  15 

Look'd  out  the  joyous  Spring,  look'd  out,  and  smiled. 

To  thee,  the  patron  of  her  first  essay, 
The  Muse,  O  Wilmington  !  renews  her  song. 
Since  has  she  rounded  the  revolving  year : 
Skimm'd  the  gay  Spring ;  on  eagle  pinions  borne.    20 
Attempted  through  the  summer  blaze  to  rise  ; 
Then  swept  o'er  Autumn  with  the  shadowy  gale  • 
And  now  among  the  wintry  clouds  ao-ain 
11 


122  WINTER. 

Roll'd  in  the  doubling  storm,  she  tries  to  soar  , 

To  swell  her  note  with  all  the  rushing  winds  ,  25 

To  suit  her  sounding  cadence  to  the  floods , 

As  is  her  theme,  her  numbers  wildly  great : 

Thrice  happy  could  she  fill  thy  judging  ear 

With  bold  description  and  with  manly  thought 

Nor  art  thou  skill'd  in  awful  schemes  alone,  3(* 

And  how  to  make  a  mighty  people  thrive  : 

But  equal  goodness,  sound  integrity, 

A  firm  unshaken  uncorrupted  soul 

Amid  a  sliding  age,  and  burning  strong, 

Not  vainly  blazing,  for  thy  country's  weal,  35 

A  steady  spirit  regularly  free  ; 

These,  each  exalting  each,  the  statesman  light 

Into  the  patriot ;  these,  the  public  hope 

And  eye  to  thee  converting,  bid  the  Muse 

Record  what  envy  dares  not  flattery  call.  40 

Now  when  the  cheerless  empire  of  the  sky 
To  Capricorn  the  Centaur  Archer  yields. 
And  fierce  Aquarius  stains  the'  inverted  year  , 
[lung  o'er  the  furthest  verge  of  heaven,  the  sun 
Scarce  spreads  through  ether  the  dejected  day.         45 
Faint  are  his  gleams,  and  ineffectual  shoot 
His  struggling  rays,  in  horizontal  lines, 
Through  the  thick  air  ;  as  clothed  in  cloudy  storm, 
Weal?:,  wan,  and  broad,  he  skirts  the  southern  sky  ; 
And,  soon  descending,  to  the  long  dark  night,  50 

Wide-shading  all,  the  prostrate  world  resigns. 
Nor  is  the  night  unwish'd  ;  while  vital  heat, 
Light,  life,  and  joy  the  dubious  day  forsake. 
Meantime,  in  sable  cincture,  shadows  vast, 
Deep-tinged  and  damp,  and  congregated  clouds,       5n 
And  all  the  vapoury  turbulence  of  heaven, 
fnvolve  the  face  of  things.     Thus  Winter  falls, 
A  heavy  gloom  oppressive  o'er  the  world, 
Through  Nature  shedding  influence  malign, 
And  rouses  up  the  seeds  of  dark  disease.  60 

The  soul  of  man  dies  in  him,  loathing  life, 


WINTER.  103 

/  nd  black  wrni  more  than  melancholy  views. 
The  cattle  droop  ;  and  o'er  the  furrow'd  land, 
Fresh  from  the  plough,  the  dun  discolour'd  flocks, 
Untended  spreading,  crop  the  wholesome  root.  65 

Along  the  woods,  along  the  moorish  fens, 
Sighs  the  sad  Genius  of  the  coming  storm  : 
And  up  among  the  loose  disjointed  cliffs, 
And  fractured  mountains  wild,  the  brawling  brook 
And  cave,  presageful,  send  a  hollow  moan,  70 

Resounding  long  in  listening  Fancy's  ear. 

Then  comes  the  father  of  the  tempest  forth, 
Wrapp'd  in  black  glooms.     First  joyless  rains  obscure 
Drive  through  the  mingling  skies  with  vapour  foul  ; 
Dash  on  the  mountain's  brow,  and  shake  the  woods,  75 
That  grumbling  wave  below.     The'  unsightly  plain 
Lies  a  brown  deluge  ;  as  the  low-bent  clouds 
Pour  flood  on  flood,  yet  unexhausted  still 
Combine,  and  deepening  into  night  shut  up 
The  day's  fair  face.     The  wanderers  of  heaven,        80 
Each  to  his  home,  retire  ;  save  those  that  love 
To  take  their  pastime  in  the  troubled  air, 
Or  skimming  flutter  round  the  dimply  pool. 
The  cattle  from  the'  untasted  fields  return, 
And  ask,  with  meaning  lowe,  their  wanted  stalls,     85 
Or  ruminate  in  the  contiguous  shade. 
Thither  the  household  feathery  people  crowd, 
The  crested  cock,  with  all  his  female  train, 
Pensive,  and  dripping  ;  while  the  cottage-hind 
Hangs  o'er  the'  enlivening  blaze,  and  taleful  there  90 
Recounts  his  simple  frolic  :  much  he  talks, 
And  much  he  laughs,  nor  recks  the  storm  that  blows 
Without,  and  rattles  on  his  humble  roof. 

Wide  o^er  the  brim,  with  many  a  torrent  swell 'd, 
And  the  mix'd  ruin  of  its  banks  o'erspread,  95 

At  last  the  roused-up  river  pours  along  : 
Resistless,  roaring,  dreadful,  down  it  comes, 
From  the  rude  mountain,  and  the  mossy  wild, 

through  rock  si  abrupt,  and  sounding  far  ; 


124  WINTER. 

Then  o'er  the  sanded  valley  floating  spreads,  100 

Calm,  sluggish,  silent  ;  till  again,  constrain'd 

Between  two  meeting  hills,  it  bursts  away, 

Where  rocks  and  woods  o'erhang  the  turbid  stra 

Their  gathering  triple  force,  rapid,  and  deep, 

It  boils  and  wheels  and  foams  and  thunders  thro 

Nature  !  great  parent !  whose  unceasing  hand 
Rolls  round  the  Seasons  of  the  changoful  year, 
How  mighty,  how  majestic  are  thy  works ! 
With  what  a  pleasing  dread  they  swell  the  soul ' 
That  sees  astonish'd  !  and  astonish'd  sings  ' 
Ye  too,  ye  winds  !  that  now  begin  to  blow 
With  boisterous  sweep,  I  raise  my  voice  to  you. 
Where  are  your  stores,  ye  powerful  beings  !  say, 
Where  your  aerial  magazines  reserved, 
To  swell  the  brooding  terrors  of  the  storm  ?  113 

In  what  far  distant  region  of  the  sky, 
Hush'd  in  deep  silence,  sleep  ye  when  'tis  calm? 

When  from  the  pallid  sky  the  sun  descends, 
With  many  a  spot,  that  o'er  his  glaring  orb 
Uncertain  wanders,  stain'd  ;  red  fiery  streaks  12Q 

Begin  to  flush  around.     The  reeling  clouds 
Stagger  with  dizzy  poise,  as  doubting  yet 
Which  master  to  obey  :  while  rising  slow, 
Blank,  in  the  leaden-colour'd  east,  the  moon 
Wears  a  wan  circle  round  her  blunted  horns.  123 

Seen  through  the  turbid  fluctuating  air, 
The  stars  obtuse  emit  a  shiver'd  ray  ; 
Or  frequent  seem  to  shoot  athwart  the  gloom, 
And  long  behind  them  trail  the  whitening  blaze. 
Snatch'd  in  short  eddies,  plays  the  wither'd  leaf;    13G 
And  on  the  flood  the  dancing  feather  floats. 
With  broaden'd  nostrils  to  the  sky  upturn'd, 
The  conscious  heifer  snuffs  the  stormy  gale. 
E'en  as  the  matron,  at  her  nightly  task, 
With  pensive  labour  draws  the  flaxer.  thread,          135 
The  wasted  taper  and  the  crackling  flame 
Foietel  the  blast.     But  chief  the  plumy  race, 


WINTER.  125 

The  tenants  of  the  sky,  its  changes  speak. 
Retiring  from  the  downs,  where  all  day  long 
They  pick'd  their  scanty  fare,  a  blackening  train     140 
Of  clamorous  rooks  thick  urge  their  weary  flight.. 
And  seek  the  closing  shelter  of  the  grove  ; 
Assiduous,  in  his  bower,  the  wailing  owl 
Plies  his  sad  song.     The  cormorant  on  high 
Wheels  from  the  deep,  and  screams  along  the  land.  145 
Loud  shrioks  the  soaring  hern  ;  and  with  wild  whig 
The  circling  seafowl  cleave  the  flaky  clouds. 
Ocean,  unequal  press'd,  with  broken  tide 
And  blind  commotion  heaves  ;  while  from  the  shore, 
Eat  into  caverns  by  the  restless  wave,  150 

And  forest-rustling  mountain,  cornes  a  voice, 
That  solemn  sounding  bids  the  world  prepare. 
Then  issues  forth  the  storm  with  sudden  burst, 
And  hurls  the  whole  precipitated  air 
Down,  in  a  torrent.     On  the  passive  main  155 

Descends  the'  etherial  force,  and  with  strong  gust 
Turns  from  its  bottom  the  discolour'd  deep. 
Through  the  black  night  that  sits  immense  around, 
Lash'd  into  foam,  the  fierce  conflicting  brine 
Seems  o'er  a  thousand  raging  waves  to  burn :          16C 
Meantime  the  mountain  billows,  to  the  clouds 
In  dreadful  tumult  swell'd,  surge  above  surge. 
Burst  into  chaos  with  tremendous  roar, 
And  anchor'd  navies  from  their  stations  drive, 
Wild  as  the  winds  across  the  howling  waste  165 

Of  mighty  waters  :  now  the'  inflated  wave 
Straining  they  scale,  and  now  impetuous  shoot 
Into  the  secret  chambers  of  the  deep, 
The  wintry  Baltic  thundering  o'er  their  head. 
Emerging  thence  again,  before  the  breath  17fl 

Of  full-exorted  heaven  they  wing  their  course, 
And  dart  on  distant  coasts  ;  if  some  sharp  rock 
Or  shoal  insidious  break  not  their  career, 
And  in  loose  fragments  fling  them  floating  round. 
Nor   ess  at  hand  the  loosen'd  tempest  reigns.       175 
1J  » 


126  WINTER. 

The  mountain  thunders  ;  and  its  sturdy  sons 

Stoop  to  the  bottom  of  the  rocks  they  shade. 

Lone  on  the  midnight  steep,  and  all  aghast, 

The  dark  wayfaring  stranger  breathless  toils, 

And,  often  falling,  climbs  against  the  blast.  180 

Low  waves  the  rooted  forest,  vex'd,  and  sheds 

What  of  its  tarnish'd  honours  yet  remain  j 

Dash'd  down,  and  scatter'd,  by  the  tearing  wind's 

Assiduous  fury,  its  gigantic  limbs. 

Thus  struggling  through  the  dissipated  grove,        185 

The  whirling  tempest  raves  along  the  plain  ; 

And  on  the  cottage  thatch'd,  or  lordly  roof, 

Keen-fastening,  shakes  them  to  the  solid  base. 

Sleep  frighted  flies  ;  and  round  the  rocking  dome, 

For  entrance  eager,  howls  the  savage  blast.  190 

Then  too,  they  say,  through  all  the  burden'd  air, 

Long  groans  are  heard,  shrill  sounds,  and  distant  sighs, 

That,  utter'd  by  the  Demon  of  the  night, 

Warn  the  devoted  wretch  of  woe  and  death. 

Huge  uproar  lords  it  wide.     The  clouds  commix'd 
With  stars  swift  gliding  sweep  along  the  sky.          196 
All  Nature  reels.     Till  Nature's  King,  who  oft 
Amid  tempestuous  darkness  dwells  alone, 
And  on  the  wings  of  the  careering  wind 
Walks  dreadfully  serene,  commands  a  calm  ;  200 

Thftn,  straight,  air,  sea,  and  earth  are  hush'd  at  once. 

As  yet  'tis  midnight  deep.     The  weary  clouds, 
Slow-meeting,  mingle  into  solid  gloom. 
Now,  while  the  drowsy  world  lies  lost  in  sleep, 
Let  me  associate  with  the  serious  Night,  205 

And  Contemplation,  her  sedate  compeer  ; 
Let  me  shake  off  the'  intrusive  cares  of  day, 
And  lay  the  meddling  senses  all  aside. 

Where  now.  ye  lying  vanities  of  life  ! 
Ye  ever  tempting  ever  cheating  train  !  210 

Where  are  you  now  ?  and  what  is  your  amount  ? 
Vexation,  disappointment,  and  remors^  : 
Sad,  sicko.ning  thought !  and  yet,  deludb^  man, 


WINTER.  .  127 

A  scene  of  crude  disjointed  visions  past, 
And  broken  slumbers,  rises  still  resolved,  215 

With  new-Hush'd  hopes,  to  run  the  giddy  round. 

Father  of  light  and  life  !  thou  Good  Supreme  ! 
O,  teach  me  what  is  good  !  teach  me  Thyself! 
Save  me  from  folly,  vanity,  arid  vice, 
From  every  low  pursuit !  and  feed  my  soul  220 

With  knowledge,  conscious  peace,  and  virtue  pure  ; 
Sacred,  substantial,  never  fading  bliss  ! 

The  keener  tempests  rise  :  and  fuming  dun 
From  all  the  livid  east,  or  piercing  north, 
Thick  clouds  ascend ;  in  whose  capacious  womb    225 
A  vapoury  deluge  lies,  to  snow  congeal'd. 
Heavy  they  roll  their  fleecy  world  along  ; 
And  the  sky  saddens  with  the  gather'd  storm. 
Through  thehush'd  air  the  whitening  shower  descends, 
At  first  thin  wavering  ;  till  at  last  the  flakes  230 

Fall  broad  and  wide  and  fast,  dimming  the  day 
With  a  continual  flow.     The  cherish'd  fields 
Put  on  their  winter  robe  of  purest  white. 
'Tis  brightness  all ;  save  where  the  new  snow  melts 
Along  the  mazy  current.     Low  the  woods  2i>5 

Bow  their  hoar  head ;  and  ere  the  languid  sun 
Faint  from  the  west  emits  his  evening  ray, 
Earth's  universal  face,  deep  hid,  and  chill, 
Is  one  wild  dazzling  waste,  that  buries  wide 
The  works  of  man.     Drooping,  the  labourer-ox      240 
Stands  cover'd  o'er  with  snow,  and  then  demands 
The  fruit  of  all  his  toil.     The  fowls  of  heaven, 
Tamed  by  the  cruel  season,  crowd  around 
The  winnowing  store,  and  claim  the  little  bocu 
Which  Providence  assigns  them.     One  alone,         245 
The  red-breast,  sacred  to  the  household  gods, 
Wisely  regardful  of  the'  embroiling  sky, 
In  joyless  fields  and  thorny  thickets,  leaves 
His  shivering  mates,  and  pays  to  trusted  man 
His  annual  visit.     Half  afraid,  he  first  250 

Against  the  window  beats  ;  then,  briSk,  alights 


I23  WINTER. 

On  the  warm  hearth';  then,  hopping  o'er  the  floor, 

Eyes  all  the  smiling  family  askance, 

Arid  pecks,  and  starts,  and  wonders  where  he  is ; 

Till,  more  familiar  grown,  the  table-crumbs  255 

Attract  his  slender  feet.     The  foodless  wilds 

Pour  forth  their  brown  inhabitants.     The  hare, 

Though  timorous  of  heart,  and  hard  beset 

By  death  in  various  forms,  dark  snares,  and  dogs, 

And  more  unpitying  men,  the  garden  seeks,  2Gt> 

Urged  on  by  fearless  want.     The  bleating  kind 

Eye  the  bleak  heaven,  and  next  the  glistening  earth, 

With  looks  of  dumb  despair  ;  then,  sad-dispersed, 

Dig  for  the  wither'd  herb  through  heaps  of  snow. 

Now,  shepherds,  to  your  helpless  charge  be  kind, 
Baffle  the  raging  year,  and  fill  their  pens  266 

With  food  at  will ;  lodge  them  below  the  storm, 
And  watch  them  strict :  for  from  the  bellowing  east, 
In  this  dire  season,  oft  the  whirlwind's  wing 
Sweeps  up  the  burden  of  whole  wintry  plains          270 
At  one  wide  waft,  and  o'er  the  hapless  flocks, 
Hid  in  the  hollow  of  two  neighbouring  hills, 
The  billowy  tempest  whelms  ;  till,  upward  urged, 
The  valley  to  a  shining  mountain  swells, 
Tipp'd  with  a  wreath  high-curling  in  the  sky.         275 

As  thus  the  snows  arise  ;  and  foul,  and  fierce, 
All  Winter  drives  along  the  darken'd  air  ; 
In  his  own  loose  revolving  fields,  the  swain 
Disaster'd  stands  ;  sees  other  hills  ascend, 
Of  unknown  joyless  brow  ;  and  other  scenes,          280 
Of  horrid  prospect,  shag  the  trackless  plain  : 
Nor  finds  the  river,  nor  the  forest,  hid 
Beneath  the  formless  wild  ;  but  wanders  on 
From  hill  to  dale,  still  more  and  more  astray ; 
impatient  flouncing  through  the  drifted  heaps,        285 
Stung  with  the  thoughts  of  home;  the  thoughts  of  home 
Rush  on  his  nerves,  and  call  their  vigour  forth 
In  many  a  vain  attempt.     How  sinks  his  soul ' 
What  black  despair,  what  hoiror  fills  his  heart  t 


WINTER.  129 

When  for  the  dusky  spot,  which  fancy  feign'd         290 
His  tufted  cottage  rising  through  the  snow, 
He  meets  the  roughness  of  the  middle  waste, 
Far  from  the  track  and  bless'd  abode  of  man ! 
While  round  him  night  resistless  closes  fast, 
And  every  tempest,  howling  o'er  his  head,  205 

Renders  the  savage  wilderness  more  wild. 
Then  throng  the  busy  shapes  into  his  mind 
Of  cover'd  pits,  unfathomably  deep, 
A  dire  descent !  beyond  the  power  of  frost ! 
Of  faithless  bogs  ;  cf  precipices  huge,  300 

Smooth'd  up  with  snow  ;  and,  what  is  land,  unknown, 
What  water,  of  the  still  unfrozen  spring, 
In  the  loose  marsh  or  solidary  lake, 
Where  the  fresh  fountain  from  the  bottom  boils. 
These  check  his  fearful  steps  ;  and  down  he  sinks 
Beneath  the  shelter  of  the  shapeless  drift.  306 

Thinking  o'er  all  the  bitterness  of  death, 
Mix'd  with  the  tender  anguish  Nature  shoots 
Through  the  wrung  bosom  of  the  dying  man, 
H's  wife,  his  children,  arid  his  friends  unseen.         310 
In  vain  for  him  the'  officious  wife  prepares 
The  fire  fair-blazing,  and  the  vestment  warm  ; 
In  vain  his  little  children,  peeping  out 
Into  the  mingling  storm,  demand  their  sire, 
With  tears  of  artless  innocence.     Alas  !  315 

Nor  wife,  nor  children,  more  shall  he  behold, 
Nor  friends,  nor  sacred  home.     On  every  nerve 
The  deadly  Winter  seizes  ;  shuts  up  sense  ; 
And,  o'er  his  inmost  vitals  creeping  cold, 
Lays  him  along  the  snows,  a  stiffen 'd  corse,  320 

Stretch'd  out,  and  bleaching  in  the  northern  blast 

Ah  !  liitle  think  the  pray  licentious  proud,  __ 
Whom  pleasure,  power,  and  affluence  surround.: 
They  vho  their  thoughtless  hours  in  giddy  mirth , 
And  wanloa,  often  cruel,  riot  waste  ;  325 

^.h  !  little  thmix  they,  wnile  they  dance  along, 
How  inu^y  fed,  tO  ve*;-  HK  aeni  death, 


130  WINTER. 

And  all  the  sad  variety  of  pain. 
/      How  many  sink  in  the  devouring  flood, 

Or  more  devouring  flame.     How  many  bleed,        330 
By  snarneful  variance  betwixt  man  and  man. 
i  How  many  pine  in  want,  and  dungeon  glooms, 

*          Shut  from  the  common  air,  and  common  use 

Of  their  own  limbs.     How  many  drink  the  cup 

Of  baleful  grief,  or  eat  the  bitter  bread  335 

Of  misery.     Sore  pierced  by  wintry  winds, 

Ht>W  mnny  ghrit^  "^  tj|P  pordid  hut 

Ofcheerless  poverty.     How  many  shake 
"With  alT  the  fiercer  tortures  of  the  mind, 
Unbounded  passion,  madness,  guilt,  remorse  ;          340 
Whence  tumbled  headlong  from  the  height  of  life, 
They  furnish  matter  for  the  tragic  Muse. 
E'en  in  the  vale,  where  Wisdom  loves  to  dwell, 
With  friendship,  peace,  and  contemplation  join'd, 
How  many,  rack'd  with  honest  passions,  droop        345 
In  deep  retired  distress      How  many  stand 
Around  the  death-bed  of  their  dearest  friends, 
And  point  the  parting  anguish.     Thought  fond  Man 
Of  these,  and  all  the  thousand  nameless  ills, 
That  one  incessant  struggle  render  life,  350 

_  Q»friMna  af  tnil^uf  imfflUllflg,  and  oi  tateT~ 
Vice  in  his  high  career  would  stand  appall'd 
"^tald  UumllBBB  fftiftftlmg  impulse  learn  to  think ; 
The  conscious  heart  of  Charity  would  \vanu, 
And  her  wide  wish  Benevolence  dilate  ;  3Hfi 

The  social  tear  would  rise,  the  sociaj  JJJIJLL. 
And  into  clear  perfection,  gradual  bliss, 
Refining  still,  the  social  passions  work. 

And  here  can  I  forget  the  generous  band,* 
Who,  touch'd  witli  human  woe,  rcdressive  search'd 
Into  the  horrors  of  the  gloomy  jail  ?  361 

Unpitied,  and  unheard,  where  misery  moans  ; 
Where  sickness  pines  ;  where  thirst  and  hunger  bum, 
4nd  poor  misfortune  feels  the  lash  of  vice. 
*The  Jail  Committee,  in  the  vear  1729. 


WINTER.  13v 

While  in  the  land  of  Liberty,  the  land  365 

Whose  every  street  and  public  meeting  glow>-- 
With  open  freedom,  little  tyrants  raged  ;    ** 
Snatch'd  the  lean  morsel  from  the  starving  mouth  : 
Tore  from  cold  wintry  limbs  the  tatter'd  weed  ; 
E'en  robb'd  th^jn_^fjy^Jh£tjo££omforts,  sleep  ;       370 
The  'ire e5'qrn.'.Ikito&  t»4h»-<ku»geon:  cframM , 
Or,  as  the  lust  of  cnielty  pre-vail'd, 
At  pleasure  mark'd  him  with  inglorious  stripes  •, 
And  crush'd  out  lives,  by  secret  barbarous  ways, 
That  for  their  country  would  have  toil'd  or  bled.     375 
O  great  design  !  if  executed  well, 
With  patient  care,  and  wisdom-temper'd  zeal. 
Ye  sons  of  Mercy  !  yet  resume  the  search ; 
Drag  forth  the  regal  monsters  into  light, 
Wrench  from  their  hands  Oppression's  iron  rod,      380 
And  bid  the  cruel  fcel  the  pains  they  give. 
Much  still  untouch'd  remains ;  in  this  rank  age. 
Much  is  the  patriot's  weeding  hand  required. 
The  toils  of  law  (what  dark  insidious  rnen 
Have  cumbrous  added  to  perplex  the  truth,  366 

And  lengthen  simple  justice  into  trade,) 
How  glorious  were  the  day  !  that  saw  these  broke 
And  every  man  within  the  reach  of  righj — 

By  wintry  famine  roused,  from  all  the  tract 
Of  horrH  mountains  which  the  shining  Alps,          390 
And  wav}  Apennine,  and  Pyrenees, 
Branch  out  ^  ^upendous  into  distant  lands  , 
Cruel  as  death,  and  hungry  as  the  grave  ! 
Burning  for  bloot,  '  bonv  and  gatmt  and  grim  t 
Assembling  wolves  in  raging  tioops  descend  ;          39rt 
And,  pouring  e'er  the  country,  bear  along 
Keen  as  the  north-wind  sweeps  the  glossy  snow. 
All  is  their  prize.     They  fasten  on  the  steed, 
Press  him  to  earth,  and  pierce  his  mighty  heart 
Nor  can  the  bull  his  awful  front  defend,  4(W 

Or  shake  the  murdering  savages  away. 
Rapacious,   at  the  mother's  throat  they  fly, 


132  WINTER. 

And  tear  the  screaming  infant  from  her  breast 

The  godlike  face  of  man  avails  him  nought. 

E'en  beauty,  force  divine  !  at  whose  bright  glance  405 

The  generous  lion  stands  in  soften'd  gaze, 

Here  bleeds,  a  hapless  undistinguished  prey. 

But  if,  apprised  of  tbo  severe  attack, 

The  country  be  shut  up,  lured  by  the  scent, 

On  church-yards  drear  (inhuman  to  relate  ')  410 

The  disappointed  prowlers  fall,  and  dig 

The  shrouded  body  from  the  grave  ;  o'er  which, 

Mix'd  with  foul  shades  and  frighted  ghosts,  they  howl. 

Among  those  hilly  regions,  where  embraced 
In  peaceful  vales  the  happy  Grisons  dwell ;  415 

Oft,  rushing  sudden  from  the  loaded  cliffs, 
Mountains  of  snow  their  gathering  terrors  roll, 
From  steep  to  steep,  loud-thundering  down  they  come, 
A  wintry  waste  in  dire  commotion  all ; 
And  herds,  and  flocks,  and  travellers,  and  swains,  420 
And  sometimes  whole  brigades  of  marching  troops 
Or  hamlets  sleeping  in  the  dead  of  night, 
Are  deep  beneath  the  smothering  ruin  whelm'd. 

Now,  all  amid  the  rigours  of  the  year, 
In  the  wild  depth  of  Winter,  while  without  425 

The  ceaseless  winds  blow  ice,  be  my  retreat, 
Between  the  groaning  forest  and  the  shore 
Beat  by  the  boundless  multitude  of  waves, 
A  rural,  shelter'd,  solitary  scene  ; 

Where  ruddy  fire  and  beaming  tapers  join,  430 

To  cheer  the  gloom.     There  studious  let  me  sit, 
And  hold  high  converse  with  the  mighty  Dead  j 
Sages  of  ancient  time,  as  nods  revered, 
As  gods  beneficent,  who  bless'd  mankind 
With  arts^  with  armsv.audjhjarnanized  a  world.        435 
Roused  at  the'  inspiring  thought,  I  throw  aside 
The  longlived  volume  ;  and,  deep-musing,  hail 
The  sacred  shades,  that  slowly  rising  pass 
Before  my  wondering  eyes.     First  Socrates, 
Who,  firmly  good  in  a  corrupted  state",  440 


WINTER.  IAJ 

Against  the  rage  of  tyrants  single  stood, 
Invincible  !  calm  Reason's  holy  law, 
That  Voice  of  God  within  the'  attentive  mind, 
Obeying,  fearless,  o.  in  life  or  death : 

Great  moral  teacher  !  Wisest  of  mankind^ 445 

Solon  the  next,  who  built  his  commonweal     ^ 
On  equity's  widebasej.  by  tender  laws 
A  lively  people" curbing,  yet  undamp'd 
Preserving  still  that  quick  peculiar  fire, 
Whence  in  the  laurel'd  field  of  finer  arts,  450 

And  of  bold  freedom,  they  unequal'd  shone, 
The  pride  of  smiling  Greece  and  humankind. 
Lycurgus  then,  who  bow'd  beneath  the  force 
Of  striclesFdTscipline,  severely  wise, 
All  human  passions.     Following  him,  I  see,  155 

As  at  Thermopylae  he  glorious  fell, 
The  firm  devoted  Chief,*  who  proved  by  deeds 
The  hardest  lesson*which  the  other  taught. 
Then  Aristides  lifts  his  honest  front ; 
Spotless  of  heart,  to  whom  the'  unflattering  voice  460 
Of  freedom  gave  the  noblest  name  of  Just ; 
In  pure  majestic  poverty  revered  ; 
Who,  e'en  his  glory  to  his  country's  weal 
Submitting,  swell'd  a  haughty  Rival'st  fame. 
Rear'd  by  his  care,  of  softer  ray  appears  465 

Cimon  sweet-soul'd  ',  whose  genius,  rising  strong, 
Shook  off7  the  load  of  young  debauch  ;  abroad 
The  scourge  of  Persian  pride,  at  home  the  friend 
Of  every  worth  and  every  splendid  art ; 
Modest  and  simple  in  the  pomp  of  wealth.  470 

Then  the  last  worthies  of  declining  Greece, 
Late  call'd  to  glory,  in  unequal  times, 
Pensive  appear.     The  fair  Corinthian  boast, 
Timoleon,  happy  temper  !  mild  and  firm, 
Who  wept  the  brother  while  the  tyrant  bled.  475 

And,  equal  to  the  best,  the  Theban  PairJ 
*  Leonidas.  f  Themistocles. 

J  Pelopidas  and  Epaminondas. 


134  WINTER. 

Whose  virtues,  in  heroic  concord  join'tf, 
Their  country  raised  to  freedom,  empire,  fame. 
He  too,  with  whom  Athenian  honour  sunk, 
And  left  a  mass  of  sordid  ices  beh:nd,  48f 

Phoeion  the  Good  ;  in  public  life  severe, 
To  virtue  still  inexorably  firm  ; 
But  when,  beneath  his  low  illustrious  roof, 
Sweet  peace  and  happy  wisdom  smooth'd  his  brow, 
Not  friendship  softer  was,  nor  love  more  kind.        485 
\nd  he,  the  last  of  old  Lycurgus'  sons, 
'Che  generous  victim  to  that  vain  attempt, 
To  save  a  rotten  state,  Agis,  who  saw 
E'en  Sparta's  self  to  servile  avarice  sunk. 
The  two  Achaian  heroes  close  the  train  :  490 

Aratus,  who  awhile  relumed  the  soul 
Of  fondly  lingering  liberty  in  Greece  j 
And  he  her  darling  as  her  latest  hope, 
The  gallant  Philopoemen  ;  who  to  arms 
Turn'd  the  luxurious  pomp  he  could  not  cure  ;        495 
Or  toiling  in  his  farm,  a  simple  swain  ; 
Or,  bold  and  skilful,  thundering  in  the  field 
Of  rougher  front,  a  mighty  people  come ! 
A  race  of  heroes  !  in  those  virtuous  times 
Which  knew  no  stain,  save  that  with  partial  flame  500 
Their  dearest  country  they  too  fondly  loved : 
Her  better  Founder  first,  the  light  of  Rome, 
Numa,  who  soften'd  her  rapacious  sons  : 
Servius  the  king,  who  laid  the  solid  base 
On  which  o'er  earth  the  vast  republic  spread.          505 
Then  the  great  consuls  venerable  rise. 
The  public  Father*  who  the  private  quell'd, 
As  on  the  dread  tribunal  sternly  sad. 
He,  whom  his  thankless  country  could  not  lose, 
Camillus,  only  vengeful  to  her  foes.  510 

Fabricius,  scorner  of  all  conquering  gold  ; 
And  Cinciunatua,  awful  from  the  plough. 
Thy  willing  victim,!  Carthage,  bursting  loose 
*  Marcus  Junius  Brutus'  t  Reguliw. 


WINTER.  135 

f\   m  all  that  pleading  Nature  could  oppose, 
FV  m  a  whole  city's  tears,  by  rigid  faith  515 

Imperious  call'd,  and  honour's  dire  command. 
Scipio,  the  gentle  chief,  humanely  brave, 
Who  soon  the  race  of  spotless  glory  ran, 
And,  warm  in  youth,  to  the  poetic  shade 
With  Friendship  and  Philosophy  retired.  520 

Tully,  whose  powerful  eloquence  awhile 
Restrain'd  the  rapid  fate  of  rushing  Rome. 
Unconquer'd  Cato,  virtuous  in  extreme  : 
And,  thou,  unhappy  Brutus,  kind  of  heart,  ^ 

Whose  steady  arm,  by  awful  virtue  urged,  5^5 

Lifted  the  Roman  steel  against  thy  friend. 
Thousands  besides  the  tribute  of  a  verse 
Demand  ;  but  who  can  count  the  stars  of  heaven . 
Who  sing  their  influence  on  this  lower  world  ? 

Behold,  who  yonder  comes  !  in  sober  state,          530 
Fair,  mild,  and  strong,  as  is  a  vernal  sun  : 
'Tis  Phrehus'  self,  or  else  the  JVIantuin  ^W""J 
Great  Hor~T  tflT  •ppp:irg  nf  da-ring  wing, 
Parent  of  sonor  !   and  equal,  by  his  side, 
The  British  Muse  :  join'd  hand  in  hand  they  walk,  535 
Darkling,  full  up  the  middle  steep  to  fame, 
Nor  absent  are  those  shades,  whose  skilful  touch 
Pathetic  drew  the'  impassion'd  heart,  and  charm'd 
Transported  Athens  with  the  moral  scene  ; 
Nor  those  who,  tuneful,  waked  the'  enchanting  lyre. 

First  of  your  kind!  socjety^iyjnej^  541 

Still  visit  thus  my  nights,  for  you  reserved, 
And  mount  my  soaring  soul  to  thoughts  like  yours 
Silence,  thou  lonely  power  !  the  door  be  thine  ; 
See  on  the  hallow'd  hour  that  none  intrude,  545 

Save  a  few  chosen  friends,  who  sometimes  deign 
To  bless  my  humble  roof,  with  sense  refined, 
Learning  digested  well,  exalted  faith, 
Unstudied  wit,  and  humour  ever  gay. 
Or  from  the  Muses'  hill  with  Pope  descend,  550 

To  raise  the  sacred  hour,  to  bid  it  smile, 


136  WINTER. 

And  with  the  social  spirit  warm  the  heart  r 
For  though  not  sweet  his  own  Homer  sings, 
Yet  is  his  life  the  more  endearing  song. 

Where  art  thou,  Hammond  ?  thou,  the  darling  pride, 
The  friend  and  lover  of  the  tuneful  throng  !  556 

Ah,  why,  dear  youth,  in  all  the  blooming  prime 
Of  vernal  genius,  where  disclosing  fast 
Each  active  worth,  each  manly  virtue  lay, 
Why  wert  thou  ravish'd  from  our  hope  so  soon  ?    560 
What  now  avails  that  noble  thirst  of  fame, 
Which  stung  thy  fervent  breast  ?  that  treasured  store 
Of  knowledge,  early  gain'd  ?  that  eager  zeal 
To  serve  thy  country,  glowing  in  the  band 
Of  youthful  patriots,  who  sustain  her  name;  565 

What  now,  alas !  that  life-diffusing  charm 
Of  sprightly  wit  ?  that  rapture  for  the  Muse, 
That  heart  of  friendship,  and  that  soul  of  joy, 
Which  bade  with  softest  light  thy  virtues  smile  ? 
Ah  !  only  show'd,  to  check  our  fond  pursuits,          570 
And  teach  our  humble  hopes  that  life  is  vain  ! 

Thus  in  some  deep  retirement  would  I  pass 
The  winter  glooms,  with  friends  of  pliant  soul, 
Or  blithe,  or  solemn,  as  the  theme  inspired : 
With  them  would  search,  if  Nature's  boundless  frame 
Was  call'd,  late-rising  from  the  void  of  night,          576 
Or  sprung  eternal  from  the'  Eternal  Mind  ; 
Its  life,  its  laws,  its  progress,  and  its  end.    " 
Hence  larger  pruspects  of  the  beauteous  whole 
Would,  gradual,  open  on  our  opening  minds ;          580 
And  each  diffusive  harmony  unite 
In  full  perfection,  to  the'  astonish'd  eye. 
Then  would  we  try  to  scan  the  mortal  world, 
Which,  though  to  us  it  seems  embroil'd,  moves  on 
In  higher  order  ;  fitted  and  impell'd  585 

By  Wisdom's  finest  hand,  and  issuing  all 
In  general  good.     The  sage  historic  Muse 
Should  next  conduct  us  through  the  deeps  of  time 
Show  us  hauLj&aiiiijcegrew,  declined,  and  fell, 


WINTER.  137 

n  scatter 'd  states  ;  what  makes  the  nations  smile,  590 
Improves  their  soil,  and  gives  them  double  suns; 
And  why  they  pine  beneath  the  brightest  skies, 
In  Nature's  richest  lap.     As  thus  we  talk'd, 
Our  hearts  would  burn  within  us,  would  inhale —* 
That  portion  of  divinity,  that  ray 
Of  purest  heaven,  which  lights  the  public  foul 
Of"p~atriots  and~6Hicroes.     But  if  doom'd, 
In  powerless  humble  fortune,  to  repress 
These  ardent  risings  of  the  kindling  soul ; 
Then,  even  superior  to  ambition,  we  600 

Would  learn  the  private  virtues  :  how  to  glide 
Through  shades  and  plains,  along  the  smoothest  stream 
Of  rural  life  :  or,  snatch'd  away  by  hope, 
Through  the  dim  spaces  of  futurity, 
With  earnest  eye  anticipate  those  rcenes  605 

Of  happiness  and  wonder  ;  where  the  mind, 
In  endless  growth  and  infinite  ascent, 
Rises  from  state  to  state,  and  world  to  world. 
But  when  with  these  the  serious  thought  is  foil'd, 
We,  shifting  for  relief,  would  play  the  shapes          610 
Of  frolic  fancy  ;  and  incessant  form 
Those  rapid  pictures,  that  assembled  train 
Of  ileet  ideas,  never  join'd  before, 
Whence  lively  Wit  excites  to  gay  surprise  ; 
Or  folly-painting  Humour,  grave  himself,  615 

Calls  Laughter  forth,  deep  shaking  every  nerve. 

Meantime  the  village  rouses  up  the  fire  ; 
While  well  attested,  and  as  well  believed, 
Heard  solemn,  goes  the  goblin  story  round; 
Till  superstitious  horror  creeps  o'er  all. 
Or,  frequent  in  the  sounding  hall,  they  wake 
The  rural  gambol.     Rustic  mirth  goes  round  ; 
The  simple  joke  that  takes  the  shepherd's  heart, 
Easily  pleased  ;  the  long  loud  laugh,  sincere  ; 
The  kiss,  snatch'd  hasty  from  the  sidelong  maid,    625 
On  purpose  guardless  or  pretending  sleep  : 
The  leap,  the  slap,  the  haul ;  and,  shook  to  notes 
12* 


138  WINTER. 

Of  native  music,  the  respondent  dance 

Thus  jocund  fleets  with  them  the  winter  night. 

The  city  swarms  intense.     The  public  haunt,      630 
Full  of  each  theme,  and  warm  with  mix'd  discourse, 
Hums  indistinct.     The  sons  of  riot  flow 
Down  the  loose  stream  of  false  enchanted  joy, 
To  swift  destruction.     On  the  rankled  soul 
The  gaming  fury  falls  ;  and  in  one  gulf  635 

Of  total  ruin,  honour,  virtue,  peace, 
Friends,  families,  and  fortune  headlong  sink. 
Up  springs  the  dance  along  the  lighted  dome, 
Mix'd  and  evolved  a  thousand  sprightly  ways. 
The  glittering  court  effuses  every  pomp  ;  640 

The  circle  deepens  :  beam'd  from  gaudy  robes, 
Tapers,  and  sparkling  gems,  and  radiant  eyes, 
A  soft  effulgence  o'er  the  palace  waves  : 
While,  a  gay  insect  in  his  summer  shine, 
The  fop,  light  fluttering,  spreads  his  mealy  wings.  645 

Dread  o'er  the  scene  the  ghost  of  Hamlet  stalks ; 
Othello  rages  ;  poor  Monimia  mourns  ; 
And  Belvidera  pours  her  soul  in  love. 
Terror  alarms  the  breast ;  the  comely  tear 
Steals  o'er  the  cheek  :  or  else  the  Comic  Muse       650 
Holds  to  the  world  a  picture  of  itself, 
And  raises  sly  the  fair  impartial  laugh. 
Sometimes  she  lifts  her  strain,  and  paints  the  scene* 
Of  beauteous  life  ;  whate'er  can  deck  mankind, 
Or  charm  the  heart,  in  generous  Bcvil*  show'd.      656 

O  Thoi.,  whose  wisdom,  solid  yet  refined, 
Whose  patriot  virtues,  and  consummate  skill 
To  touch  the  finer  springs  that  move  the  world, 
Join'd  to  whate'er  the  Graces  can  bestow, 
And  all  Apollo's  animating  fire,  660 

Give  thee,  with  pleasing  dignity,  to  shine 
At  once  the  guardian,  ornament,  and  joy 
Of  polish'd  life  ;  permit  the  rural  Muse, 

*  A  character  in  The  Conscious  Lovers,  written  by  Sir  R 
Steele. 


WINTER.  139 

O  Chesterfield,,  tp.grafCQ  WJt.h,  th«e  her  jflEgJ^ 
Ere  to  the  shades  again  she  humbly  flies,  665 

Indulge  her  fond  ambition,  in  thy  train 
(For  every  Muse  has  in  thy  train  a  place,) 
To  mark  thy  various  full-accomplish'd  mind  : 
To  mark  that  spirit  which,  jvith  British  scorn, 
Reacts  the'  allurements  of  coTrupTecl  power  ;          670 
ess,  whlcITexcels, 


E'wi  in  the  judgment  of  presumptuous  France,  _ 

The  '"boasted  mariners  ol  her  shilling;  Court";""""" 

That  wit,  the  vivid  energy  of  sense, 

n*ha  +,.itK  ..f  \u*nrp  »rKi^h   wjth  Attic  point          675 

And  kind  well  temper'd  satire,  smoothly  keen, 

Steals  through  the  soul,  and  without  pain  corrects. 

Or  rising  thence  with  yet  a  brighter  flame, 

O,  let  me  hail  thee  on  some  glorious  day, 

When  to  the  listening  senate,  ardent,  crowd  680 

Britannia's  sons  to  hear  her  pleaded  cause 

Then  dress'd  by  tnee,  more  amiably  fair, 

Truth  the  soft  robe  of  mild  persuasion  wears- 

Thou  to  assenting  reason  givest  again 

Her  own  enlighten'd  thoughts  ;  call'd  from  the  heart, 

The'  obedient  passions  on  thy  voice  attend  ;  686 

And  e'en  reluctant  party  feels  awhile 

Thy  gracious  power  ;  as  through  the  varied  maze 

Of  eloquence,  now  smooth,  now  quick,  now  strong, 

Profound,  and  clear,  you  roll  the  copious  flood.       690 

To  thy  loved  haunt  return,  my  happy  Muse  • 
For  now,  behold,  the  joyous  winter  days, 
Frosty,  succeed  ;  and  through  the  blue  serene, 
For  sight  too  Hne,  the'  etherial  nitre  flies  ; 
Killing  infectious  damps,  and  the  spent  air  695 

Storing  afresh  with  elemental  life. 
Close  crowds  the  shining  atmosphere  ;  and  bind* 
Our  strengthen'd  bodies  in  its  cold  embrace, 
Constringent  ;  feeds  and  animates  our  blood  ; 
Refines  our  spirits,  through  the  new-strung  nerves  709 
In  swifter  sallies  darting  to  the  brain  ; 


f40  WINTER. 

Where  sits  the  soul,  intense,  collected,  cool, 

Bright  as  the  skies,  and  as  the  season  keen 

All  Nature  feels  the  renovating  force 

Of  Winter,  only  to  the  thoughtless  eye  705 

In  ruin  seen.     The  frost-concocted  glebe 

Draws  in  abundant  vegetable  soul, 

And  gathers  vigour  for  the  coming  year. 

A  stronger  glow  sits  on  the  lively  cheek 

Of  ruddy  fire  :  and  luculent  along  710 

The  purer  rivers  flow  ;  their  sullen  deeps, 

Transparent,  open  to  the  shepherd's  gaze, 

And  murmur  hoarser  at  the  fixing  frost. 

What  art  thou,  frost  i  and  whence  are  thy  keen  stores 
Derived,  thou  secret  all-inrading  power,  715 

Whom  e'en  the'  illusive  fluid  cannot  fly  ? 
Is  not  thy  potent  energy,  unseen, 
Myriads  of  little  salts,  or  hook'd,  or  shaped 
Like  double  wedges,  and  diffused  immense 
Through  water,  earth,  and  ether  ?  hence  at  eve,     730 
Steam'd  eager  from  the  red  horizon  round, 
With  the  fierce  rage  of  Winter  deep  suffused, 
An  icy  gale,  oft  shifting,  o'er  the  pool 
Breathes  a  blue  film,  and  in  its  mid  career 
Arrests  the  bickering  stream.     The  loosen'd  ice,    7&J 
Let  down  the  flood,  and  half  dissolved  by  day, 
Rustles  no  more  ;  but  to  the  sedgy  bank 
Fast  giovvs,  or  gathers  round  the  pointed  stone, 
A  crystal  pavement,  by  the  breath  of  heaven 
Cemented  firm  ;  till,  seized  from  shore  to  shore,     730 
The  whole  imprison'd  river  growls  below. 
Loud  rings  the  frozen  earth,  and  hard  reflects 
A  louble  noise  ;  while,  at  his  evening  watch, 
The  village  dog  deters  the  nightly  thief; 
The  heifer  lows  ;  the  distant  waterfall  735 

Swells  in  the  breeze  ;  and,  with  the  hasty  tread 
Of  traveller,  the  hollow -sounding  plain 
Shakes  from  afar.     The  full  etherial  round, 
Infinite  worlds  disclosing  to  the  view, 


WINTER.  141 

Shines  out  intensely  keen  ;  and,  all  one  cope          740 
Of  starry  glitter,  glows  from  pole  to  pole. 
From  pole  to  pole  the  rigid  influence  falls, 
Through  the  still  night,  incessant,  heavy,  strong, 
Arid  seizes  Nature  fast.     It  freezes  on ; 
Till  Morn,  late  rising  o'er  the  drooping  world,         745 
Lifts  her  pale  eye  unjoyous.     Then  appears 
The  various  labour  of  the  silent  night : 
Prone  from  the  dripping  eave,  and  dumb  cascade, 
Whose  idle  torrents  only  seem  to  roar, 
The  pendent  icicle  ;  the  frost-work  fair,  756 

Where  transient  hues  and  fancied  figures  rise  ; 
Wide-spouted  o'er  the  hill,  the  frozen  brook, 
A  livid  tract,  cold-gleaming  on  the  morn  ; 
The  forest  bent  beneath  the  plumy  wave  ; 
And  by  the  frost  refined  the  whiter  snow,  755 

Iricrusted  hard,  and  sounding  to  the  tread 
Of  early  shepherd,  as  he  pensive  seeks 
His  pining  flock,  or  from  the  mountain  top, 
Pleased  with  the  slippery  surface,  swift  descends. 

On  blithesome  frolics  bent,  the  youtuful  swains,  760 
While  every  work  of  man  is  laid  at  rest, 
Fond  o'er  the  river  crowd,  in  vaiious  sport 
And  revelry  dissolved  ;  where  mixing  glad, 
Happiest  of  all  the  train !  the  raptured  boy 
Lashes  the  whirling  top.     Or,  where  the  Rhine      765 
Branch'd  out  in  many  a  long  canal  extends, 
From  every  province  swarming,  void  of  care, 
Batavia  rushes  forth  ;  and  as  they  sweep, 
On  sounding  skates,  a  thousand  different  ways, 
In  circling  poise,  swift  as  the  winds,  along,  770 

The  then  gay  land  is  madden'd  all  to  joy. 
Nor  less  the  northern  courts,  wide  o'er  the  snow 
Pour  a  new  pomp.     Eager,  on  rapid  sleds, 
Their  vigorous  youth  in  bold  contention  wheel 
The  long-resounding  course.     Meantime  to  raise    775 
The  manly  strife,  with  highly  blooming  charms, 


142  WINTER. 

Flush'd  by  the  season,  Scandinavia's  dames, 

Or  Russia's  buxom  daughters,  glow  around. 

Pure,  quick,  and  sportful  is  the  wholesome  day ; 
But  soon  elapsed.     The  horizontal  sun,  780 

Broad  o'er  the  south,  hangs  at  his  utmost  noon  • 
And,  ineffectual,  strikes  the  gelid  cliff: 
His  azure  gloss  the  mountain  still  maintains, 
Nor  feels  the  feeble  touch.     Perhaps  the  vale 
Relents  awhile  to  the  reflected  ray  :  785 

Or  from  the  forest  falls  the  cluster'd  snow, 
Myriads  of  gems,  that  in  the  waving  gleam 
Gay-twinkle  as  they  scatter.     Thick  around 
Thunders  the  sport  of  those,  who  with  the  gun, 
And  dog  impatient  bounding  at  the  shot,  790 

Worse  than  the  Season,  desolate  the  fields  ; 
And,  adding  to  the  ruins  of  the  year, 
Distress  the  footed  or  the  feather'd  game. 

But  what  is  this  ?  our  infant  Winter  sinks 
Divested  of  his  grandeur,  should  our  eye  795 

Astonish'd  shoo'  into  the  frigid  zone  ; 
Where,  for  relentless  months,  continual  Night 
Holds  o'er  the  glittering  waste  her  starry  reign. 

There,  through  the  prison  of  unbounded  wilds, 
Barrd  by  the  hand  of  Nature  from  escape,  800 

Wide  roams  the  Russian  exile.     Nought  around 
Strikes  his  sad  eye  but  deserts  lost  in  snow ; 
And  heavy -loaded  groves  ;  and  solid  floods, 
That  stretch,  athwart  the  solitary  vast, 
Their  icy  horrors  to  the  frozen  main ;  805 

And  cheerless  towns  far  distant,  never  bless'd, 
Save  when  its  annual  course  the  caravan 
Bends  to  the  golden  coast  of  rich  Cathay,* 
Vviih  news  of  humankind.     Yet  there  life  glows  ; 
Yet  cherish'd  there,  beneath  the  shining  waste,       $10 
The  furry  nations  harbour  :  tipp'd  with  jet, 
Fair  ermines,  spotless  as  the  snows  they  press; 
*  The  old  name  tor  China. 


WINTER,  143 

Sables,  of  glossy  black  ;  and  dark-ernbrown'd, 
Or  beauteous  freak'd  with  many  a  mingled  hue, 
Thousands  besides,  the  costly  pride  of  courts.          819 
There,  warm  together  press'd,  the  trooping  deer 
Sleep  on  the  new-fallen  snows  ;  and,  scarce  his  head 
Raised  o'er  the  heapy  wreath,  the  branching  elk 
Lies  slumbering  sullen  in  the  white  abyss. 
The  ruthless  hunter  wants  nor  dogs  nor  toils,          820 
Nor  with  tbe  dread  of  sounding  bows  he  drives 
The  fearful  flying  race  ;  with  ponderous  clubs, 
As  weak  against  the  mountain  heaps  they  push 
Their  beating  breast  in  vain,  and  piteous  bray, 
He  lays  them  quivering  on  the'  ensanguined  snows, 
And  with  loud  shouts  rejoicing  bears  them  home.  82( 
There  through  the  piny  forest  half-absorb'd, 
Rough  tenant  of  these  shades,  the  shapeless  bear, 
With  dangling  ice  all  horrid,  stalks  forlorn  ; 
Slow-paced,  and  sourer  as  the  storms  increase,        830 
He  makes  his  bed  beneath  the'  inclement  drift, 
And,  with  stern  patience,  scorning  weak  complaint, 
Hardens  his  heart  against  assailing  want. 

Wide  o'er  the  spacious  regions  of  the  north, 
That  see  Bootes  urge  his  tardy  wain,  835 

A  boisterous  race,  by  frosty  Caurus*  pierced, 
Who  little  pleasure  know  and  fear  no  pain, 
Prolific  swarm.     They  once  relumed  the  flame 
Of  lost  mankind  in  polish'd  slavery  sunk, 
Drove  martial  horde  on  horde, t  with  dreadful  sweep 
Resistless  rushing  o'er  the'  enfeebled  south,  841 

And  gave  the  vanquished  world  another  form. 
Not  such  the  sons  of  Lapland  :  wisely  they 
Despise  the'  insensate  barbarous  trade  of  war, 
They  ask  no  more  than  simple  Nature  gives,  845 

They  love  their  mountains,  and  enjoy  their  storms 
No  false  desires,  no  pride-created  wants, 
Disturb  the  peaceful  current  of  their  time ; 
*  The  North-west  wind. 
t  The  wandering  Scvthian  clans. 


J44  WINTER. 

And  through  the  restless  ever  tortured  maze 

Of  pleasure  or  ambition  bid  it  rage.  850 

Their  reindeer  form  tneir  riches.     These  their  tenlb, 

Their  robes,  their  beds,  and  all  their  homely  wealth 

Supply,  their  wholesome  fare  and  cheerful  caps. 

Obsequious  at  their  call,  the  docile  tribe 

Yield  to  the  sled  their  necks,  and  whirl  them  swift  855 

O'er  hill  and  dale,  heap'd  into  one  expanse 

Of  marbled  snow,  as  far  as  eye  can  sweep, 

With  a  blue  crust  of  ice  unbounded  glazed. 

By  dancing  meteors  then,  that  ceaseless  shake 

A  waving  blaze  refracted  o'er  the  heavens,  860 

And  vivid  moons,  and  stars  that  keener  play 

With  doubled  lustre  from  the  glossy  waste, 

E'en  in  the  depth  of  polar  night,  they  find 

A  wondrous  day :  enough  to  h^ht  the  chase, 

Or  guide  their  daring  steps  to  Finland  fairs.  865 

Wish'd  Spring  returns  ;  and  from  the  hazy  south, 

While  dim  Aurora  slowly  moves  before, 

The  welcome  sun,  just  verging  up  at  first, 

By  small  degrees  extends  the  swelling  curve  ! 

Till  seen  at  last  for  gay  rejoicing  months,  870 

Still  round  and  round  his  spiral  course  he  winds, 

And  as  he  nearly  dips  his  flaming  orb, 

Wheels  up  again,  and  reascends  the  sky. 

In  that  glad  season,  from  the  lakes  and  floods, 

Where  pure  Niemi's*  fairy  mountains  rise,  875 

And  fringed  with  roses  Tengliot  rolls  his  stream, 

*  M.  de  Maupertius,  in  his  book  on  the  Figure  of  the  Earth, 
after  having  described  the  beautiful  lake  and  mountain  of 
Niemi,  in  Lapland,  says,  "  Fron.  this  height  we  had  opportu 
nity  several  times  to  see  those  vapours  rise  from  the  lake, 
which  the  people  of  the  country  call  Hftltios,  and  which  they 
derm  to  he  tin?  guard-an  spirit'?  of  the  mountains.  We  had 
been  frighted  with  stories  of  bears  that  haunted  this  place,  but 
saw  none.  It  seemed  rather  a  place  of  resort  for  fairies  and 
genii  than  bears." 

t  The  same  author  observes,  "I  was  surprised  to  see  upon 
the  banks  of  this  river  (the  Tenglio)  roses  of  as  lively  a  red  aa 
any  that  are  in  our  gardens.". 


WINTER  145 

They  draw  the  copious  fry.     With  these,  at  eve, 
They  cheerful  loaded  to  their  tents  repair  ; 
Where,  all  day  long  in  useful  cares  employ'd, 
Their  kind  unblemiah'd  wives  the  fire  prepare.        880 
Tiirice  happy  race  !  by  poverty  secured 
From  legal  plunder  and  rapacious  power  : 
In  whom  fell  interest  never  yet  has  sown 
The  seeds  of  vice  :  whose  spotless  swains  ne'er  knew 
Injurious  deed,  nor,  blasted  by  the  breach  686 

Of  faithless  love,  their  blooming  daughters  wo*. 

Still  pressing  on,  beyond  Tornea'a  lake, 
And  Hecla  flaming  through  a  waste  of  snow, 
And  furthest.  Greenland,  to  the  pole  itself, 
Where,  failing  gradual,  life  at  length  goes  out,       890 
The  Muse  expands  her  solitary  flight ; 
Arid,  hovering  o'er  the  wild  stupendous  scene, 
Beholds  new  seas  beneath  another  sky.* 
Throned  in  his  palace  of  cerulean  ice, 
Here  Winter  holds  his  unrejoicing  court;  896 

And  through  his  airy  hall  the  loud  misrule 
O{  driving  tempest  is  for  ever  heard  : 
Here  the  grim  tyrant  meditates  his  wrrJ.h  ; 
Here  arms  his  winds  with  all-subduing  frost ; 
Moulds  his  fierce  hail,  and  treasures  up  his  snowa,  000 
With  which  he  now  oppresses  half  the  globe. 

Thence,  winding  eastward  to  the  Tartar's  coast, 
She  sweeps  the  howling  margin  of  the  main  j 
Where  unJissolving,  from  the  first  of  time, 
Snows  swell  on  snows  amazing  to  the  sky  ;  &05 

And  icy  mountains  high  on  mountains  piled, 
Seem  to  the  shivering  sailor  from  afar, 
Shapeless  and  white,  an  atmosphere  of  cloudt. 
Projected  huge  and  horrid  o'er  the  surge, 
Alps  frown  on  Alps  ;  or,  rushing  hideous  down,     910 
As  if  old  Chaos  was  again  return'd, 
Wide  rend  the  deep,  and  shake  the  sc!id  pole. 
*  The  other  hemisphere. 
J3 


146  WINTER 

Ocean  itself  no  longer  can  resist 
The  binding  fury  :  but,  vn  all  its  rage 
Of  tempest  taken  by  the  boundless  frost,  915 

Is  many  a  fathom  to  the  bottom  chain 'd, 
And  bid  to  loar  no  more  :  a  bleak  expanse, 
Shagg'd  o'er  with  wavy  rocks,  cheerless,  and  void 
Of  every  life,  that  from  the  dreary  months 
Flies  conscious  southward.     Miserable  they  .  920 

Who,  here  entangled  in  the  gathering  ice, 
Take  their  last  look  of  the  descending  sun ; 
While,  full  of  death  and  fierce  with  tenfold  frost, 
The  long  long  night,  incumbent  o'er  their  heads, 
Falls  horrible.     Such  was  the  Briton's*  *ate,  925 

As  with  first  prow  (what  have  not  Britons  dared  >) 
He  for  the  passage  sought,  attempted  sn.co 
So  much  in  vain,  and  seeming  to  be  shut 
By  jealous  nature  with  eternal  bars. 
In  these  fell  regions,  in  Arzina  caught,  IKHl 

And  to  the  stony  deep  his  idle  ship 
Immediate  seal'd,  he  wiin  his  hapless  crew, 
Each  full  exerted  at  his  several  task, 
Froze  into  statues  ;  to  the  cordage  glued 
The  sailor,  and  the  pilot  to  the  helm.  i>35 

Hard  by  these  shores,  where  scarce  his  freezing  stream 
Rolls  the  wild  Oby,  live  the  last  of  men  ; 
And,  half  enliven'd  by  the  distant  sun, 
That  rears  and  ripens  man  as  well  as  plants, 
Here  human  Nature^weajs-ito  rudont  form  _          940 
Deep  1'rbfll'lhe  pie"rclng  season  sunk  in  cave», 
Here  by  dull  fires,  and  with  unjoyous  cheer, 
They  waste  the  tedious  gloom.     Immersed  in  furs, 
Doze  the  gross  race.     Nor  sprightly  jest,  nor  song, 
Nor  tenderness  they  know  :  nor  angnt  of  life          045 
Beyond  the  kindred  bears  that  stalk  without, 
Till  morn  at  length,  her  roses  drooping  all, 

"  >%Hugh  Willoughby,  sent  by  Queen  Elizabeth  todfc 
cuw  th«  north -A'uu  nassage. 


WINTER.  147 

Sheds  a  long  twilight  brightening  o'er  their  fields. 
And  calls  the  quiv-er'd  savage  to  the  chase. 

What  cannot  active  government  perform. ._  950 
New-moulding  jrnan? Wide  stretching  from  these 
A  people  savage  from  remotest  time,  [shores, 

A  huge  neglected  empire,  one  vast  mind, 
By  Heaven  inspired,  from  gothic  darkness  call'd. 
Immortal  Peter  !  first  of  monarcns  !  he  955 

His  stubborn  country  tamed,  her  rocks,  her  fens, 
Her  floods,  her  seas,  her  ill  submitting  sons  ; 
And  while  the  fierce  barbarian  he  subdued, 
To  more  exalted  soul  he  raised  the  man. 
Y"e  shades  of  ancient  heroes,  ye  who  toil'd  960 

Through  long  successive  ages  to  build  up 
A  labouring  plan  of  state,  behold  at  once 
The  wonder  done  !  behold  the  matchless  prince ! 
Who  left  his  native  throne,  where  reign'd  till  then 
A  mighty  shadow  of  unreal  power  ;  9CG 

Who  greatly  spurn'd  the  slothful  pomp  of  courts  J 
And  roaming  every  land,  in  every  port 
His  sceptre  laid  aside,  with  glorious  hand 
Unwearied  plying  the  mechanic  tool, 
Gather'd  the  seeds  of  trade,  of  useful  artf,  970 

Of  civil  wisdom,  and  of  martial  skill. 
Charged  with  the  stores  of  Europe,  home  he  goes ! 
Then  cities  rise  arnid  the'  illunmicd  waste  ; 
O'er  joyless  deserts  smiles  the  rural  reign  ; 
Far  distant  flood  to  flood  is  social  join'd  ;  975 

The'  astonish 'd  Euxine  hears  the  Baltic  roar  ; 
Proud  navies  ride  on  seas  that  nevor  foani'd 
With  daring  keel  before  ;  and  armies  stretch 
Each  way  their  dazzling  files,  repressing  here 
The  frantic  Alexander  of  the  north,  9gfl 

And  awing  there  stern  Othman's  shrinking  sons. 
Sloth  flies  the  land,  andlgnorance.  and  Vice, 
C  f  old  dishonour  proucT:  it  glows  around, 
Taught  by  the  Royal  Hand  that  roused  the  whole, 


148  WINTER. 

One  scene  of  arts,  of  arms,  o/"  rising  trade  :  985 

For  what  his  wisdom  plann'd,  and  power  enforced, 
More  potent  still,  his  great  example  show'd. 

Muttenng,  the  winds  at  eve,  with  blunted  point, 
Blow  hollow-blustering  from  the  south.  Subdued, 
The  frost  resolves  into  a  trickling  thaw.  090 

Spotted  the  mountains  shine  ;  loose  sleet  descends, 
And  floods  the  country  round.     The  rivers  B<veil, 
Of  bonds  impatient.     Sudden  from  the  hills, 
O'er  rocks  and  woods,  in  broad  brown  cataricts, 
A  thousand  snow-fed  torrents  shoot  at  once  ;  995 

And,  where  they  rush,  the  wide-resounding  plain 
Is  left  one  slimy  waste.     Those  sullen  seas, 
That  wash'd  the'  ungenial  pole,  will  rest  no  more 
Beneath  the  shackles  of  the  mighty  north  ; 
But,  rousing  all  their  waves,  resistless  heave.         1000 
And  hark  !  the  lengthening  roar  continuous  runs 
Athwart  the  rifted  deep  :  at  once  it  bursts, 
And  piles  a  thousand  mountains  to  the  clouds 
111  fares  the  bark,  with  trembling  wretches  charged. 
That,  toss'd  amid  the  floating  fragments,  moors     1005 
Beneath  the  shelter  of  an  icy  isle, 
While  night  overwhelms  the  sea,  and  horror  looks 
More  horrible.     Can  human  force  endure 
The'  assembled  mischiefs  that  besiege  them  round  ? 
Heart-gnawing  hunger,  fainting  weariness,  1010 

The  roar  of  winds  and  waves,  the  crush  of  ice, 
Now  ceasing,  now  renew'd  with  louder  rage, 
And  in  dire  echoes  bellowing  round  the  main. 
More  to  embroil  the  deep,  Leviathan, 
And  his  unwieldy  train,  in  dreadful  sport,  1015 

Tempest  the  loosen'd  brine,  while  through  the  gloom, 
Far  from  the  bleak  inhospitable  shore 
Loading  the  winds,  is  heard  the  hungry  howl 
Of  famish'd  monsters,  there  awaiting  wrecks. 
Yet  Provid<nce,  that  ever  waking  eye, 
Looks  down  with  pity  on  the  feeble  toil 


WINTER.  I*9 

Of  mortars  *>st  to  hope,  and  lights  them  safe, 
Through  all  this  dreary  labyrinth  of  fa,e. 

Tis  done  !  dread  Winter  spreads  his  latest  glooms, 
And  reigns  tremendous  o'er  the  conquer'd  yew.    1025 
How  dead  the  vegotable  kingdom  lies  : 
How  dumb  the  tuneful !  horror  wide  extends 
His  desolate  domain.     Behold,  fond  man  ! 
See  here  thy  pictured  life  ;  pass  some  few  years, 
Thy  flowering  Spring,  thy  Summer's  ardent  strength, 
Thy  sober  Autumn  fading  into  «ge> 
And  pale  concluding  Winter  comes  at  last, 
And  shuts  the  scere.     Ah  !  whither  now  are  jied 
Those  ^"ir1"  nf  greatness  ?  thoM  unaoUd  hcpee 
Of  happiness  ?  those  longings  after  farm;  ? 
Those  restless  cares  ?  those  busy  bustling  days  ? 
Those  gay-spent,  festive  nights  ?  those  veering  thought*, 
Lost  between  good  and  ill,  that  shared  thy  life  ? 
All  now  are  vanish'd  !  Virtue  sole  survives^ 
Immortal  never  failing  friend  of  Man, 
His  guide  to  happiness  on  high.     And  see  !  ^ 
'Tis  come,  the  glorious  morn  !  the  second  birth 
Of  heaven  and  earth!  awakening  Nature  hears 
The  new-creating  word,  and  starts  to  life, 
In  every  heighten'd  form,  from  pain  and  death      1045 
For  ever  free.     The  great  eternal  scheme, 
Involving  all,  and  in  a  perfect  whole 
Uniting,  as  the  prospect  wider  spreads, 
To  reason's  eye  refined  clears  up  apace. 
Ye  vainly  wise  !  ye  blind  presumptuous !  now,      1050 
Confounded  in  the  dust,  adore  that  Power 
And  Wisdom  oft  arraign'd  :  see  now  the  cause, 
Why  unassuming  worth  in  secret  lived, 
And  died  neglected  :  why  the  good  man's  share 
Jn  life  was  gall  and  bitterness  of  soul : 
Why  the  lone  widow  and  her  orphans  pined 
Ir  starving  solitude  ;  while  Luxury, 
In  palaces,  lay  straining  her  low  thought, 
13* 


150  WINTER. 

To  form  unreal  wants  :  why  heaven-born  truth, 

And  moderation  fair,  wore  the  red  marks  1000 

Of  superstition's  scourge  :  why  licensed  pain, 

That  cruel  spoiler,  that  embosom '^J 

Embitter 'd  all  our  bliss.     Ye  good  cos! 

Ye  noble  few  !   who  here  unbending  stand 

Beneath  life's  pressure,  yet  bear  up  awhile,  1065 

And  what  your  bounded  view,  which  only  saw 

A  little  part,  deem'd  evil  is  no  more  : 

The  storms  of  Wintry  Time  will  tmicklj?  pa«. 

And  one  unbounded  Spring  encircle  all. 


HYMN. 


THESE,  as  they  change,  ALMIGHTY  FATHER,  these 
Are  but  tne  varied  GOD.     The  rolling  year 
s  full  of  THKE.     Forth  in  the  pleasing  Spring 
'HY  beauty  walks,  THY  tenderness,  am!  love. 
Wiue  flush  the  fields  ;  the  softening  air  is  balm  j        6 
Echo  the  mountains  round  :  the  forest  smiles  ; 
And  every  sense,  and  every  heart  is  joy. 
Then  comes  THY  glory  in  the  Summer  months, 
Wi'h  light  and  heart  refulgent.     Then  THY  sun 
Shoots  full  perfection  through  the  swelling  year  '.      10 
And  oft  THY  VOICE  in  dreadful  thunder  speaks  : 
And  oft  at  dawn,  deep  noon,  or  falling  eve, 
By  brooks  and  groves,  in  hollow-whispering  gales 
THY  bounty  shines  in  Autumn  unconfmed, 
And  spreads  a  common  feast  for  all  that  lives.  15 

In  Winter  awful  THOU  '  with  clouds  and  storms 
Around  THEE  thrown,  tempest  o'er  tempest  rolTd. 
Majestic  darkness  !  on  the  whirlwind's  wing, 
Riding  sublime,  THOU  bidst  the  world  adore, 
And  huiiblest  Nature  with  THY  nortnern  blast.         20 

Mysterious  round  !  what  skill,  what  force  divine, 
Deep  felt,  in  these  appear  !  a  simple  train, 
Yet  so  delightful  mix'd,  with  such  kind  art, 
Such  beauty  and  beneficence  combined  ; 
Shade,  unperceived,  so  softening  into  shade  ;  $5 

And  all  so  forming  an  harmonious  whole  ; 
That,  as  they  still  succeed,  they  ravish  still. 
But  wandering  oft,  with  brute  unconscious  gaze, 
Man  marks  not  THEE,  marks  not  the  mighty  hand, 
That,  evsr  busy,  wheels  the  silent  sphere  ;  30 


152  HYMN. 

Works  in  the  secret  deep  ;  shoots,  steaming,  thence 
The  fair  profusion  that  o'erspreads  the  Spring  : 
Flings  from  the  sun  direct  the  flaming  day  ; 
Feeds  every  creature  ;  hurls  the  tempest  forth  j 
And,  as  on  earth  this  grateful  change  .evolves,         35 
With  transport  touches  all  the  springs  of  life 

Nature,  attend  !  join,  ^very  living  soul 
Beneath  the  spacious  temple  of  the  sky, 
In  adoration  join  ;  and,  ardent,  ra'se 
One  general  song  !  To  HIM,  ye  vocal  gales,  411 

Breathe  soft,  whose  spirit  in  -<xir  freshness  breathes  • 
Oh,  talk  of  HIM  in  solitary  glooms  ! 
Where,  o'er  the  rock,  the  scarcely  waving  pine 
Fills  the  brown  shade  with  a  religious  awe. 
Arid  ye,  whose  bolder  note  is  heard  afar,  45 

Who  shake  the'  astonish'd  world,  lift  high  to  heaven 
The'  impetuous  song,  and  say  from  whom  you  rage. 
His  praise,  ye  brooks,  attune,  ye  trembling  rills ; 
And  let  me  catch  it  as  I  muse  along. 
Ye  headlong  torrents,  rapid  and  profound  ;  50 

Ye  softer  floods,  that  lead  the  hunnd  maze 
Along  the  vale  ;  and  thou,  majestic  main. 
A  secret  world  of  wonders  in  thyself, 
Sound  His  stupendous  praise  :  whose  greater  voice 
Or  bids  you  roar  or  bids  your  roarings  fall.  55 

Soft  roll  your  incense,  herbs,  and  fruits,  and  flowers, 
In  mingled  clouds  to  HIM  ;  whose  sun  exalts, 
Whose  breath  perfumes  you,  and  whose  pencil  paints. 
Ye  forests,  bend  ;  ye  harvests,  wave  to  HIM  ; 
Breathe  your  still  song  into  the  reaper's  heart,         CO 
As  home  he  goes  beneath  the  joyous  moon. 
Ye  ;hat  keep  watch  in  heaven,  as  earth  asleep 
Unconscious  lies,  effuse  your  mildest  beams, 
Ye  constellations,  while  your  angels  strike, 
AwvSl  the  spangled  sky,  the  silver  lyre.  6ft 

Great  source  of  day  !  best  image  here  below 
Of  thy  CREATOR,  ever  pouring  wide, 
From  world  to  world,  the  vital  ocean  round, 


HYMN.  153 

On  Nature  write  with  every  beam  His  praise. 
The  thunder  rolls  .  he  hush'd  the  prostrate  world,    70 
While  cloud  to  cloud  returns  the  solemn  hymn. 
Bleat  out  afresh,  ye  hills  :  ye  mossy  rocks, 
Rctair  the  sound  :  the  broad  responsive  lowe, 
Ye  valleys,  raise  ;  for  the  ^^ *---*  T  P« v- P " g J*P 
And  his  unsuflering  kingdom  yet  will  come.  75 

Ye  woodlands  all,  awako  :  a  boundless  song 
Burst  from  the  groves  !  and  when  the  restless  day, 
Expiring,  lays  the  warbling  world  asleep, 
Sweetest  of  birds  !  sweet  Philomela,  charm 
The  listening  shades,  and  teach  the  night  His  prauso. 
Ye  chief,  for  whom  the  whole  creation  smiles,  bl 

At  once  the  head,  the  heart,  and  tongue  of  all, 
Crown  the  great  hymn  ;  in  swarming  cities  vast, 
Assembled  men,  to  the  deep  organ  join 
Tho  long  resounding  voice,  oft  breaking  clear,          85 
At  solemn  pauses,  through  the  swelling  base ; 
And,  as  each  mingling  flame  increases  oich, 
In  one  united  ardour  rise  to  heaven. 
Or  if  yoji  rather  choose  the  rural  shade, 
And  find  a  fane  in  every  sacred  grcve  ;  90 

There  let  the  shepherd's  flute,  the  virgin's  lay, 
The  prompting  seraph,  and  the  poet's  lyre, 
Still  sing  the  GOD  OF  SEASONS  as  they  roll  !-- 
For  me,  when  I  forget  the  darling  theme, 
V  hether  the  blossom  blows,  the  summer  ray  U6 

Russets  the  plain,  inspiring  Autumn  gleams, 
Or  Winter  rises  in  the  blackening  east ; 
Be  my  tongue  mute,  my  fancy  paint  no  more, 
And,  dead  to  joy,  forget  my  heurt  to  beat ! 

Should  fate  command  rne  to  the  furthest  verge    100 
Of  the  green  earth,  to  distant  barbarous  climes, 
Rivers  unknown  to  song  ;  where  first  the  sun 
Gilds  Indian  mountains,  or  his  setting  beam 
Flames  on  the'  Atlantic  isles  ;   'tis  nought  to  me  • 
Since  GOD  is  ever  present,  ever  felt,  105 

In  the  void  waste  as  in  the  city  full : 


54  HYMH 

And  where  HE  vital  breathes  there  must  be  joy 

When  even  at  last  the  solemn  hour  shall  come, 

And  wing  my  mystic  flight  to  futura  w<.rldrf, 

I  cheerful  will  obey  ;  there,  with  new  power*,         110 

Will  rising  vonders  sing  :  I  cannot  go 

Wkere  Universal  Love  not  smiles  around, 

Sustaining  all  yon  orbs,  and  all  their  suns ; 

From  seeming  Evil  still  educing  Good, 

And  better  thence  again,  and  better  Btili  lifi 

In  infinite  progression.     But  I  lose 

Myself  in  HIM,  in  Light  ineffable  ! 

Como  tben  expressive  Silence,  muse  His  praise. 


THE 


COURSE  OF  TIME, 


A  POEM. 


BY   ROBERT    POLLOK,   A.M 


A     NEW      EDITION 


BOSTON: 
PHILLIPS,  SAMPSON,  AND  COMPANY, 

1858. 


COUBSE     OF    TIME. 

BOOS  L 


ANALYSIS  OF  BOOK  L 


Invocation  is  nade  to  the  Eternal  Spirit  of  Truth,  and  the  su 
ject  of  the  Poem  is  stated. 

Long  after  Tune  had  ceased,  and  Eternity  had  rolled  on  its  ager, 
two  youthful  sons  of  Paradise  walk  on  the  hills  of  immortality, 
enjoying  holy  converse.  A  stranger  spirit  from  another  world 
arrives,  and  is  welcomed  by  them  to  the  abodes  of  bliss. 
The  stranger  desires  them  to  explain  the  wonderful  things  he 
had  noticed  in  his  flight  from  his  native  world  to  heaven.  Hav 
ing  sniled  through  empty,  nameles.  regions,  where  utter  nothing 
dwell,  he  suddenly  came  to  a  mountainous  wall  of  fiery  ada 
mant,  on  which  were  horrid  figures,  traced  in  fire,  imitating 
life.  He  entered  within,  and  saw  a  wide  lake  of  burning  fire, 
and  saw  most  miserable  beings  walking  in  the  flames,  banting 
eor.tinually,  yet  unconsumed.  Filled  with  horror,  he  hastened 
from  the  dismal  prison  to  the  world  of  light,  and  now  desired 
to  understand  this  wondrous  wretchedness.  The  Two,  unable 
to  explain  it,  and  having  their  curiosity  awakened,  propose  10 
visit  an  "  ancient  Bard  of  Earth,"  who  often  had  sung  on  this 
subject  to  the  admiring  youth  or  heaven. 

They  find  the  Bard  alone,  in  boly  musing,  and  state  to  him  their 
desire.  He  informs  then)  that  the  prison  described  is  Hell,  and 
promises  more  fully  to  meet  their  curiosity  by  relaung  to  them 
the  HISTORY  OF  AUi*. 


TBK 

COURS  E     OF     TIME. 

BOOK    I. 

ETERNAL  SPIRIT  !  God  of  truth  !  to  whom 
All  things  seem  as  they  are ;  Thou,  who  of  old 
The  prophet's  eye  unsealed,  that  nightly  saw, 
While  heavy  sleep  fell  down  on  other  men, 
In  holy  vision  tranced,  the  future  pass 
Before  him,  and  to  Judah's  harp  attuned 
Burdens  which  made  the  pagan  mountains  s 
And  Zion's  cedars  bow,— inspire  my  song  ; 
My  eye  unscale  ;  me  what  is  substance  teach, 
And  shadow  what,  while  I  of  things  to  come, 
As  past,  rehearsing,  sing  the  Course  of  Time, 
The  second  birth,  and  final  doom  of  man. 

The  muse,  that  soft  and  sickly"  wooes  the  ear 
Of  love,  or,  chanting  loud  in  windy  rhyme 
Of  fabled  hero,  raves  through  gaudy  tale 
Not  overfraught  with  sense,  I  ask  not :  such 
A  strain  befits  not  argument  so  high. 
Me  thought,  and  phrase  severely  sifting  out 
The  whole  idea,  grant ;  uttering— as  'tis 
The  essential  truth— time  gone,  the  righteous  saved, 
The  wicked  damned,  and  providence  approved. 

Hold  my  right  hand,  Almighty !  and  me  teach 
To  strike  the  lyre,  but  seldom  struck,  to  notes 
14* 


162  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

Harmonious  with,  the  morning  stars,  and  pure 
As  those  by  sainted  bards  and  angels  sung, 
Which  wake  the  echoes  of  Eternity ; 
That  fools  may  hear  and  tremble,  and  the  wise, 
Instructed,  listen,  of  ages  yet  to  come. 

Long  was  the  day,  so  long  expected,  past 
Of  the  eternal  doom,  that  gave  to  each 
Of  all  the  human  race  his  due  reward. 
The  sun,  earth's  sun,  and  moon,  and  stars,  had  ceased 
To  number  seasons,  days,  and  months,  and  years 
To  mortal  man.     Hope  was  forgotten,  and  fear : 
And  time,  with  all  its  chance,  and  change,  and  smiles, 
And  frequent  tears,  and  deeds  of  villany, 
Or  righteousness,  once  talked  of  much,  as  things 
Of  great  renown,  was  now  but  ill  remembered ; 
In  dim  and  shadowy  vision  of  the  past 
Seen  far  remote,  as  country,  which  has  left 
The  traveller's  speedy  step,  retiring  back 
From  morn  till  even  ;  and  long  Eternity 
Had  rolled  his  mighty  years,  and  with  his  years 
Men  had  grown  old.     The  saints,  all  home  returned 
From  pilgrimage,  and  war,  and  weeping,  long 
Had  rested  in  the  bowers  of  peace,  that  skirt 
The  stream  of  life  ;  and  long— alas  !  how  long 
To  them  it  seemed  !— the  wicked,  who  refused 
To  be  redeemed,  had  wandered  in  the  dark 
Of  hell's  despair,  and  drunk  the  burning  cup 
Their  sins  had  filled  with  everlasting  wo. 

Thus  far  the  years  had  rolled,  which  none  but  God 
Doth  number,  when  two  sons,  two  youthful  sons 
Of  Paradise,  in  conversation  sweet, — 
For  thus  the  heavenly  muse  instructs  me,  wooed 
At  midnight  hour,  with  offering  sincere 
Of  all  the  heart,  poured  out  in  holy  prayer,  - 


BOOK    I.  •  163 

High  on  the  huls  of  immortality, 

Whence  goodliest  prospect  looks  beyond  the  walls 

Of  heaven,  walked,  casting  oft  their  eye  far  through 

The  pure  serene,  observant  if,  returned 

From  errand  duly  finished,  any  came, 

Or  any,  first  in  virtue  now  complete, 

From  other  worlds  arrived,  confirmed  in  good. 

Thus  viewing,  one  they  saw,  on  hasty  wing 
Directing  towards  heaven  his  course  ;  and  now, 
His  flight  ascending  near  the  battlements 
And  lofty  hills  on  which  they  walked,  approached. 
For  round  and  round,  in  spacious  circuit  wide, 
Mountains  of  tallest  stature  circumscribe 
The  plains  of  Paradise,  whose  tops,  arrayed 
In  uncreated  radiance,  seemed  so  pure, 
That  naught  but  angel's  foot,  or  saint's,  elect 
Of  God,  may  venture  there  to  walk.     Here  oft 
The  sons  of  bliss  take  morn  or  evening  pastime. 
Delighted  to  behold  ten  thousand  worlds 
Around  their  suns  revolving  in  the  vast 
External  space,  or  listen  the  harmonies 
That  each  to  other  in  its  motion  sings. 
And  hence,  in  middle  heaven  remote,  is  seen 
The  mount  of  God  in  awful  glory  bright. 
Within,  no  orb  create  of  moon,  or  star, 
Or  sun,  gives  light ;  for  God's  own  countenance, 
Beaming  eternally,  gives  light  to  all. 
But  farther  than  these  sacred  hills,  his  will 
Forbids  its  flow,  too  bright  for  eyes  beyond. 
This  is  the  last  ascent  of  Virtue  ;  here 
All  trial  ends,  and  hope  ;  here  perfect  joy, 
With  perfect  righteousness,  which  to  these  heights 
Alone  can  rise,  begins,  above  all  fall. 

And  now,  on  wmg  of  holy  ardor  strong, 
Hither  ascends  the  stranger  borne  upright. — 


164  THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 

For  stranger  lie  did  seem,  with,  curious  eye 
Of  nice  inspection  round  surveying  all, — 
And  at  the  feet  alights  of  those  that  stood 
His  coming,  who  the  hand  of  welcome  gave, 
And  the  embrace  smceie  of  holy  love  ; 
And  thus  with  comely  greeting  kind,  began : 

Hail,  brother  !  hail,  thou  son  of  happiness, 
Thou  son  beloved  of  God  !  welcome  to  heaven, 
To  bliss  that  never  fades  !  thy  day  is  past 
Of  trial  and  of  fear  to  fall.     Well  done, 
Thou  good  and  faithful  servant ;  enter  now 
Into  the  joy  eternal  of  thy  Lord. 
Come  with  us,  and  behold  far  higher  sight 
Than  e'er  thy  heart  desired,  or  hope  conceived 
See,  yonder  is  the  glorious  hill  of  God, 
'Bove  angel's  gaze  in  brightness  rising  high. 
Come,  join  our  wing,  and  we  will  guide  thy  flight 
To  mysteries  of  everlasting  bliss — 
The  tree,  and  fount  of  life,  the  eternal  throne, 
And  presence  chamber  of  the  King  of  kings. 
But  what  concern  hangs  on  thy  countenance, 
Unwont  within  this  place  ?     Perhaps  thou  deemst 
Thyself  unworthy  to  be  brought  before 
The  always  Ancient  One.     So  are  we,  too, 
Unworthy ;  but  our  God  is  all  in  all, 
And  gives  us  boldness  to  approach  his  throne. 

Sons  of  the  Highest !  citizens  of  heaven  ! 
Began  the  new-arrived,  right  have  ye  judged  : 
Unworthy,  most  unworthy  is  your  servant, 
To  stand  in  presence  of  the  King,  or  hold 
Most  distant  and  most  humble  place  in  this 
Abode  of  excellent  glory  unrevealed. 
But  God  Almighty  be  for  ever  praised, 
Who  of  his  fullness,  fills  me  with  all  grace 


165 


And  ornament,  to  make  me  in  his  sight 
Well  pleasing,  and  accepted  in  his  court. 
But,  if  your  leisure  waits,  short  narrative 
Will  tell,  why  strange  concern  thus  overhangs 
My  face,  ill  seeming  here  ;  and  haply,  too, 
Your  elder  knowledge  can  instruct  my  youth, 
Of  what  seems  dark  and  doubtful,  unexplained. 

Our  leisure  waits  thee.     Speak  ;  and  what  we  win, 
Delighted  most  to  give  delight,  we  will ; 
Though  much  of  mystery  yet  to  us  remains. 

Virtue,  I  need  noC  jell,  when  proved  and  full 
Matured,  inclines  u;j  up  to  God  and  heaven, 
By  law  of  sweet  cc/npulsion  strong  and  sure ; 
As  gravitation  to  the  larger  orb 
The  less  attracts,  through  matter's  whole  domain. 
Virtue  in  me  was  ripe.     I  speak  not  this 
In  boast ;  for  what  I  am  to  God  I  owe, 
Entirely  owe,  and  of  myself  am  naught. 
Equipped  and  bent  for  heaven,  I  left  yon  world, 
My  native  seat,  which  scarce  your  eye  can  reach, 
Rolling  around  her  central  sun,  far  out, 
On  utmost  verge  of  light.     But  first,  to  see 
What  lay  beyond  the  visible  creation, 
Strong  curiosity  my  flight  impelled. 
Long  was  my  way,  and  strange.    I  passed  the  bounds 
Which  God  doth  set  to  light,  and  life,  and  love  ; 
Where  darkness  meets  with  day,  where  order  meetf 
Disorder,  dreadful,  waste,  and  wild ;  and  down 
The  dark,  eternal,  uncreated  night 
Ventured  alone.     Long,  long  on  rapid  wing, 
I  sailed  through  empty,  nameless  regions  vast, 
Where  utter  nothing  dwells,  unformed  and  vpici 
There  neither  eye,  nor  ear,  nor  any  sense 
Oi  being  most  acute,  finds  object ;  there 


166  THE    COURSE   OP   TIME. 

For  aught  external  still  you  search  in  vain. 

Try  touch,  or  sight,  or  smell ;  try  what  you  will, 

You  strangely  find  naught  but  yourself  alone. 

But  why  should  I  in  words  attempt  to  tell 

What  that  is  like,  which  is,  and  yet  is  not  ? 

This  past,  my  path,  descending,  led  me  still 

O'er  unclaimed  continents  of  desert  gloom 

Immense,  where  gravitation  shifting  turns 

The  other  way  ;  and  to  some  dread,  unknown, 

Infernal  centre  downward  weighs  :  and  now, — 

Far  travelled  from  the  edge  of  darkness,  far 

As  from  that  glorious  mount  of  God  to  light's 

Remotest  limb, — dire  sights  I  saw,  dire  sounds 

I  heard  ;  and  suddenly  before  my  eye 

A  wall  of  fiery  adamant  sprung  up, 

Wall  mountainous,  tremendous,  flaming  high 

Above  all  flight  of  hope.     I  paused,  and  looked  • 

And  saw,  where'er  I  looked  upon  that  mound, 

Sad  figures  traced  in  fire,  not  motionless, 

But  imitating  life.     One  I  remarked 

Attentively  ;  but  how  shall  I  describe 

What  naught  resembles  else  my  eye  hath  seen  ? 

Of  worm  or  serpent  kind  it  something  looked, 

But  monstrous,  with  a  thousand  snaky  heads, 

Eyed  each  with  double  orbs  of  glaring  wrath ; 

And  with  as  many  tails,  that  twisted  out 

In  horrid  revolution,  tipped  -with  stings  ; 

And  all  its  mouths,  that  wide  and  darkly  gaped, 

And  breathed  most  poisonous  breath,  had  each  a  stin§ 

Forked,  and  long,  and  venemous,  and  sharp  ; 

And,  in  its  writhings  infinite,  it  grasped 

Malignantly  what  seemed  a  hea/t,  swollen,  black, 

And  quivering  with  torture  most  intense ; 

And  still  the  heart,  with  anguish  throbbing  high, 

Made  effort  to  escape,  but  could  not ;  for, 

Uowe'er  it  turned — and  oft  it  vainly  turned — 


BOOK    I.  167 

These  complicated  foldings  held  it  fast. 

And  still  the  monstrous  beast  with  sting  of  head 

Or  tail  transpierced  it,  bleeding  evermore. 

What  this  could  image,  much  I  searched  to  know; 

And  while  I  stood,  and  gazed,  and  wondered  long, 

A  voice — from  whence  I  knew  not,  for  no  one 

I  saw — distinctly  whispered  in  my  ear 

These  words  :  This  is  the  Worm  that  never  dies. 

Fast  by  the  side  of  this  unsightly  thing 
Another  was  portrayed,  more  hideous  still : 
Who  sees  it  once  shall  wish  to  see't  no  more. 
For  ever  undescribed  let  it  remain  ! 
Only  this  much  I  may  or  can  unfold. 
Far  out  it  thrust  a  dart  that  might  have  made 
The  knees  of  Terror  quake,  and  on  it  hung, 
Within  the  triple  barbs,  a  being  pierced 
Through  soul  and  body  both.     Of  heavenly  make 
Original  the  being  seemed,  but  fallen, 
taid  worn  and  wasted  with  enormous  wo. 
Ajid  still,  around  the  everlasting  lance, 
[t  writhed,  convulsed,  and  uttered  mimic  groans  ; 
And  tried  and  wished,  and  ever  tried  and  wished 
To  die ;  but  could  not  die.     Oh,  horrid  sight  1 
A  trembling  gazed,  and  listened,  and  heard  this  voice 
Approach  my  ear :  This  is  Eternal  Death, 

Nor  these  alone.     Upon  that  burning  wall, 
lln  horrible  emblazonry,  were  limned 
All  shapes,  all  forms,  all  modes  of  wretchedness, 
jLnd  agony,  and  grief,  and  desperate  wo. 
And  prominent  in  characters  of  fire, 
"Where'er  the  eye  could  light,  these  words  you  read : 
'  Who  comes  this  way,  behold,  and  fear  to  sin  1 " 
.Aunazed  I  stood ;  and  thought  such  imagery 
Foretokened,  within,  a  dangerous  abode. 


168  THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 

But  yet  to  see  the  worst  a  wish,  arose. 

For  virtue,  by  the  holy  seal  of  God 

Accredited  aad  stamped,  immortal  all, 

And  all  invulnerable,  fears  no  hurt. 

As  easy  as  my  wish,  as  rapidly, 

I  through  the  horrid  rampart  passed,  unscathed 

And  unopposed ;  and,  poised  on  steady  wing, 

I  hovering  gazed.     Eternal  Justice  !  sons 

Of  God  !  tell  me,  if  ye  can  tell,  what  then 

I  saw,  what  then  I  heard.     Wide  was  the  place, 

And  deep  as  wide,  and  ruinous  as  deep. 

Beneath,  I  saw  a  lake  of  burning  fire, 

With  tempest  tost  perpetually,  and  still 

The  waves  of  fiery  darkness  'gainst  the  rocks 

Of  dark  damnation  broke,  and  music  made 

Of  melancholy  sort ;  and  over  head, 

And  all  around,  wind  warred  with  wind,  storm  howled 

To  storm,  and  lightning  forked  lightning  crossed, 

And  thunder  answered  thunder,  muttering  sounds 

Of  sullen  wrath ;  and  far  as  sight  could  pierce, 

Or  down  descend  in  caves  of  hopeless  depth, 

Through  all  that  dungeon  of  unfading  fire, 

I  saw  most  miserable  beings  walk, 

Burning  continually,  yet  unconsumed ; 

For  ever  wasting,  yet  enduring  still ; 

Dying  perpetually,  yet  never  dead. 

Some  wandered  lonely  in  the.  desert  names, 

And  some  in  fell  encounter  fiercely  met. 

With  curses  loud,  and  blasphemies,  that  made 

The  cheek  of  Darkness  pale  ;  and  as  they  fought, 

And  cursed,  and  gnashed  their  teeth,  and  wished  to  diq 

Their  hollow  eyes  did  utter  streams  of  wo. 

And  there  were  groans  that  ended  not,  and  sighs 

That  always  sighed,  and  tears  that  ever  wept 

And  ever  fell,  but  not  in  Mercy's  sight. 

And  Sorrow,  and  Repentance,  and  Despair, 


Among  them  walked,  and  to  their  thirsty  lips 

Presented  frequent  cups  of  burning  gall. 

And  as  I  listened,  I  heard  these  beings  curse 

Almighty  God,  and  curse  the  Lamb,  and  curse 

The  earth,  the  resurrection  morn,  and  seek, 

And  ever  vainly  seek,  for  utter  death. 

And  to  their  everlasting  anguish  still, 

The  thunders  from  above  responding  spoke 

These  words,  which,  through  the  caverns  of  perdition 

Forlornly  echoing,  fell  on  every  ear : 

*«  Ye  knew  your  duty,  but  ye  did  it  not." 

And  back  again  recoiled  a  deeper  groan. 

A  deeper  groan !     Oh,  what  a  groan  was  that ! 

I  waited  not,  but  swift  on  speediest  wing, 

With  unaccustomed  thoughts  conversing,  back 

Retraced  my  venturous  path  from  dark  to  light 

Then  up  ascending,  long  ascending  up, 

I  hasted  on ;  though  whiles  the  chiming  spheres, 

By  God's  own  finger  touched  to  harmony, 

Held  me  delaying,  till  I  here  arrived, 

Drawn  upward  by  the  eternal  love  of  God, 

Of  wonder  full  and  strange  astonishment, 

At  what  in  yonder  den  of  darkness  dwells, 

Which  now  your  higher  knowledge  will  unfold. 

They  answering  said  :  To  ask  and  to  bestow 
Knowledge,  is  much  of  heaven's  delight ;  and  now 
Most  joyfully  what  thou  requirst  we  would ; 
For  much  of  new  and  unaccountable 
Thou  bringst.     Something  indeed  we  heard  before^ 
In  passing  conversation  slightly  touched, 
Of  such  a  place  ;  yet,  rather  to  be  taught, 
Than  teaching,  answer,  what  thy  marvel  asks, 
We  need ;  for  we  ourselves,  though  here,  are  but 
Of  yesterday,  creation's  younger  sons. 
But  there  is  one,  an  ancient  bard  of  Earth, 
15 


l70  THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 

Who,  oy  tne  stream  of  life,  sitting  in  bliss, 

Has  oft  beheld  the  eternal  years  complete 

The  mighty  circle  round  the  throne  of  God ; 

Great  in  all  learning,  in  all  wisdom  great, 

And  great  in  song ;  whose  harp  in  lofty  strain 

Tells  frequently  of  what  thy  wonder  craves, 

While  round  him,  gathering,  stand  the  youth  of  heaven. 

With  truth  and  melody  delighted  both. 

To  him  this  path  directs,  an  easy  path, 

And  easy  flight  will  bring  us  to  his  seat. 

So  saying,  they  linked  hand  in  hand,  spread  out 
Their  golden  wings,  by  living  breezes  fanned, 
And  over  heaven's  broad  champaign  sailed  serene. 
O'er  hill  and  valley,  clothed  with  verdure  green, 
That  never  fades ;  and  tree,  and  herb,  and  flower, 
That  never  fades ;  and  many  a  river,  rich 
With  nectar,  winding  pleasantly,  they  passed 
And  mansion  of  celestial  mould,  and  work 
Divine.     And  oft  delicious  music,  sung 
By  saint  and  angel  bands  that  walked  the  vales, 
Or  mountain  tops,  and  harped  upon  their  harps, 
Their  ear  inclined,  and  held  by  sweet  constraint 
Their  wing ;  not  long,  for  strong  desire  awaked 
Of  knowledge  that  to  holy  use  might  turn, 
Still  pressed  them  on  to  leave  what  rather  seemed 
Pleasure,  due  only  when  all  duty's  done. 

And  now  beneath  them  lay  the  wished-for  spot, 
The  sacred  bower  of  that  renowned  bard ; 
That  ancient  bard,  ancient  in  days  and  song ; 
But  in  immortal  vigor  young,  and  young 
In  rosy  health ;  to  pensive  solitude 
Retiring  oft,  as  was  his  wont  on  earth. 

Fit  was  the  place,  most  fit,  for  holy  musing* 
Upon  a  little  mount,  that  gently  rose, 


17' 


He  sat,  clothed  in  white  robes  ;  and  o'er  his  head 
A  laurel  tree,  of  lustiest,  eldest  growth, 
Stately  and  tall,  and  shadowing  far  and  wide, — 
Not  fruitless,  as  on  earth,  but  bloomed  and  rich 
With  frequent  clusters,  ripe  to  heavenly  taste, — 
Spread  its  eternal  boughs,  and  in  its  arms 
A  myrtle  of  unfading  leaf  embraced — 
The  rose  and  lily,  fresh  with  fragrant  dew, 
And  every  flower  of  fairest  cheek,  around 
Him,  smiling  flocked.     Beneath  his  feet,  fast  by, 
And  round  his  sacred  hill,  a  streamlet  walked, 
Warbling  the  holy  melodies  of  heaven  ; 
The  hallowed  zephyrs  brought  him  incense  sweet ; 
And  out  before  him  opened,  in  prospect  long, 
The  river  of  Life,  in  many  a  winding  maze 
Descending  from  the  lofty  throne  of  God, 
That  with  excessive  glory  closed  the  scene. 

Of  Adam's  race  he  was,  and  lonely  sat, 
By  chance  that  day,  in  meditation  deep, 
Reflecting  much  of  time,  and  earth,  and  man. 
And  now  to  pensive,  now  to  cheerful  notes, 
He  touched  a  harp  of  wondrous  melody. 
A  golden  harp  it  was,  a  precious  gift, 
Which,  at  the  day  of  judgment,  with  the  crown 
Of  life,  he  had  received  from  God's  own  hand, 
Reward  due  to  his  service  done  on  earth. 

He  sees  their  coming,  and  with  greeting  kind, 
And  welcome,  not  of  hollow  forged  smiles, 
And  ceremonious  compliment  of  phrase, 
But  of  the  heart  sincere,  into  his  bower 
Invites.     Like  greeting  they  returned.     Not  bent 
In  low  obeisancy,  from  creature  most 
Unfit  to  creature  ;  but  with  manly  form 
"Upright  they  entered  in ;  though  high  his  rank, 


i72  THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 

His  wisdom  high.,  and  mighty  his  renown. 

And  thus,  deferring  all  apology, 

The  two  their  new  companion  introduced. 

Ancient  in  knowledge  !  bard  of  Adam's  race  ! 
"We  bring  thee  one,  of  us  inquiring  what 
We  need  to  learn,  and  with  him  wish  to  learn. 
His  asking  will  direct  thy  answer  best. 

Most  ancient  bard  !  began  the  new- arrived, 
Few  words  will  set  my  wonder  forth,  and  guide 
Thy  wisdom's  light  to  what  in  me  is  dark. 

Equipped  for  heaven,  I  left  my  native  place. 
But  first  beyond  the  realms  of  light  I  bent 
My  course  ;  and  there,  in  utter  darkness,  far 
Remote,  I  beings  saw  forlorn  in  wo, 
Burning  continually,  yet  unconsumed. 
And  there  were  groans  that  ended  not,  and  sighs 
That  always  sighed,  and  tears  that  ever  wept 
And  ever  fell,  but  not  in  Mercy's  sight. 
And  still  I  heard  these  wretched  beings  curse 
Almighty  God,  and  curse  the  Lamb,  and  curse 
The  earth,  the  resurrection  morn,  and  seek, 
And  ever  vainly  seek,  for  utter  death. 
And  from  above  the  thunders  answered  still, 
"  Ye  knew  your  duty,  but  ye  did  it  not." 
And  everywhere,  throughout  that  horrid  den, 
I  saw  a  form  of  excellence,  a  form 
Of  beauty  without  spot,  that  naught  could  see 
And  not  admire,  admire  and  not  adore. 
And  from  its  own  essential  beams  it  gave 
Light  to  itself,  that  made  the  gloom  more  dark. 
And  every  eye  in  that  infernal  pit 
Beheld  it  still ;  and  from  its  face — how  fair  ! 
Oh,  how  exceeding  fair  !— for  ever  sought, 


BOOK    I.  17« 

But  ever  vainly  sought,  to  turn  away. 
That  image,  as  I  guess,  was  Virtue ;  for 
Naught  else  hath  God  given  countenance  so  fair. 
But  why  in  such  a  place  it  should  abide  ? 
What  place  it  is  ?     What  beings  there  lament  ? 
Whence  came  they?  and  for  what  their  endless  groan 
Why  curse  they  God  ?  why  seek  they  utter  death  ? 
And  chief,  what  means  the  resurrection  morn  ? 
My  youth  expects  thy  reverend  age  to  tell. 

Thou  rightly  deemst,  fair  youth,  began  the  bard. 
The  form  thou  sawst  was  Virtue,  ever  fair. 
Virtue,  like  God,  whose  excellent  majesty, 
Whose  glory  virtue  is,  is  omnipresent. 
No  being,  once  created  rational, 
Accountable,  endowed  with  moral  sense, 
With  sapience  of  right  and  wrong  endowed, 
And  charged,  however  fallen,  debased,  destroyed ; 
However  lost  forlorn,  and  miserable  ; 
In  guilt's  dark  shrouding  wrapped  however  thick ; 
However  drunk,  delirious,  and  mad, 
With  sin's  full  cup  ;  and  with  whatever  damned, 
Unnatural  diligence  it  work  and  toil, — 
Can  banish  Virtue  from  its  sight,  or  once 
Forget  that  she  is  fair.     Hides  it  in  night, 
In  central  night ;  takes  it  the  lightning's  wing 
And  flies  for  ever  on,  beyond  the  bounds 
Of  all ;  drinks  it  the  maddest  cup  of  sin ; 
Dives  it  beneath  the  ocean  of  despair ; 
It  dives,  it  drinks,  it  flies,  it  hides  in  vain. 
For  still  the  eternal  beauty,  image  fair, 
Once  stamped  upon  the  soul,  before  the  eyo 
All  lovely  stands,  nor  will  depart ;  so  God 
Ordains  ;  and  lovely  to  the  worst  she  seems, 
And  ever  seems  ;  and  as  they  look,  and  still 
Must  ever  look,  upon  her  loveliness, 
15* 


174  THE   COUKSB   OF   TIME. 

Remembrance  dire  of  what  they  were,  of  what 
They  might  have  been,  and  bitter  sense  of  what 
They  are,  polluted,  ruined,  hopeless,  lost, 
With  most  repenting  torment  rend  their  hearts. 
So  God  ordains,  their  punishment  severe, 
Eternally  inflicted  by  themselves. 
'Tis  this,  this  Virtue,  hovering  evermore 
Before  the  vision  of  the  damned,  and,  in 
Upon  their  monstrous  moral  nakedness 
Casting  unwelcome  light,  that  makes  their  wo, 
That  makes  the  essence  of  the  endless  flame. 
Where  this  is>  there  is  hell,  darker  than  aught 
That  he,  the  bard  three-visioned,  darkest  saw. 

The  place  thou  sawst  was  hell ;    the  groans  tho* 

heardst 

The  wailings  of  the  damned,  of  those  who  would 
Not  be  redeemed,  and  at  the  judgment  day, 
Long  past,  for  unrepented  sins  were  damned. 
The  seven  loud  thunders  which  thou  heardst,  declare 
The  eternal  wrath  of  the  Almighty  God. 
But  whence,  or  why  they  came  to  dwell  in  wo, 
Why  they  curse  God,  what  means  the  glorious  morn 
Of  resurrection,  these  a  longer  tale 
Demand,  and  lead  the  mournful  lyre  far  back 
Through  memory  of  sin  and  mortal  man. 
Yet  haply  not  rewardless  we  shall  trace 
The  dark  disastrous  years  of  finished  Time. 
Sorrows  remembered  sweeten  present  joy. 
Nor  yet  shall  all  be  sad ;  for  God  gave  peace, 
Much  peace  on  earth,  to  all  who  feared  his  nama, 

But  first  it  needs  to  say,  that  other  style 
And  other  language  than  thy  ear  is  wont, 
Thou  must  expect  to  hear — the  dialect 
Of  man.     For  each  in  heaven  a  relish  holds 


BOOK    I.  176 


Of  former  speech,  that  points  to  whence  he  came. 

But  whether  I  of  person  speak,  or  place, 

Event  or  action,  moral  or  divine  ; 

Or  things  unknown  compare  to  things  unknown ; 

Allude,  imply,  suggest,  apostrophize ; 

Or  touch,  when  wandering  through  the  past,  on  mcods 

Of  mind  thou  never  feltst ; — the  meaning  still, 

With  easy  apprehension,  thou  shalt  take. 

So  perfect  here  is  knowledge,  and  the  strings 

Of  sympathy  so  tuned,  that  every  word 

That  each  to  other  speaks,  though  never  heard 

Before,  at  once  is  fully  understood, 

And  every  feeling  uttered,  fully  felt. 

So  shalt  thou  find,  as  from  my  various  song, 
That  backward  rolls  o'er  many  a  tide  of  yeara, 
Directly  or  inferred,  thy  asking,  thou, 
And  wondering  doubt,  shalt  learn  to  answer,  while 
I  sketch  in  brief  the  history  of  man. 


COURSE     OF     TIME 

BOOK  U. 


ANALYSIS  OF  BOOK  IL 

The  "ancient  Bard"  begins  his  story.  He  relates  briefly  the 
creation  of  the  Earth,  and  of  Man ;  the  Apostacy ;  and  the 
provision  for  Man's  recovery  through  the  Incarnation  and 
Death  of  the  Son  of  God.  The  inquiring  spirit  breaks  out  in 
rapturous  admiration  of  Redeeming  Love,  expressing  the  sup 
position  that  the  whole  race  of  Adam  must  have  availed  them 
selves  of  its  benefits.  The  Bard  proceeds,  correcting  this 
mistake,  and  stating  further  the  efforts  on  the  part  of  God  to 
secure  the  salvation  of  men,  and  the  unwillingness  of  multi 
tudes  to  receive  mercy  The  Bible,  proceeding  from  God  him 
self,  was  sent  to  them,  containing  a  full  exhibition  of  God'* 
character  and  law ;  of  man's  character,  condition,  duty,  and 
destiny  ;  of  the  nature  and  tendency  of  sin,  and  of  the  method 
of  final  pardon ;  but  many  refused  to  regard  this  voice  from 
heaven ;  many  perverted  its  testimony ;  many,  after  extin 
guishing  the  light  of  revelation,  yielded  to  impious  idolatry 
Some  of  the  influences  which  operate  to  counteract  the  Bible 
are  noticed ;  particularly  the  criminal  abuse  of  office  and  au 
thority,  the  admiration  of  philosophy  and  science,  the  love  of 
pleasure  and  indolence.  In  conclusion,  the  "primal  cause" 
and  "  fountain  head  "  of  all  the  opposition  manifested  to  God 
and  to  hw  revealed  word,  is  found  in  the  Pride  of  the  human 
heart. 


THE 

COURSE     OF     TIME. 
BOOK    II. 

THIS  said,  he  waked  the  golden  harp,  and  thus, 
While  on  him  inspiration  breathed,  began  : 

As  from  yon  everlasting  hills  that  gird 
Heaven  northward,  I  thy  course  espied,  I  judge 
Thou  from  the  arctic  regions  came !     Perhaps 
Thou  noticed  on  thy  way  a  little  orb, 
Attended  by  one  moon,  her  lamp  by  night, 
With  her  fair  sisterhood  of  planets  seven, 
Revolving  round  their  central  sun ;  she  third 
In  place,  in  magnitude  the  fourth,     That  orb, 
New  made,  new  named,  inhabited  anew, — 
Though  whiles  we  sons  of  Adam  visit  still, 
Our  native  place,  not  changed  so  far  but  we 
Can  trace  our  ancient  walks,  the  scenery 
Of  childhood,  youth,  and  prime,  and  hoary  age, 
But  scenery  most  of  suffering  and  wo, — 
That  little  orb,  in  days  remote  of  old, 
When  angels  yet  were  young,  was  made  for  man, 
And  titled  Earth,  her  primal  virgin  name  ; — 
Created  first  so  lovely,  so  adorned 
With  hill,  and  dale,  and  lawn,  and  winding  vale, 
Woodland,  and  stream,  and  lake,  and  rolling  seas, 
Green  mead,  and  fruitful  tree,  and  fertile  grain, 
And  herb  and  flower ;  so  lovely,  so  adorned 


180  THE   OOTJBSE   OP  TIME. 

With  numerous  beasts  of  every  kind,  with  fowl 

Of  every  wing  and  every  tuneful  note, 

And  with  all  fish  that  in  the  multitude 

Of  waters  swam  ;  so  lovely  so  adorned, 

So  fit  a  dwelling  place  for  man,  that,  as 

She  rose,  complete,  at  the  creating  word, 

The  morning  stars,  the  sons  of  God,  aloud 

Shouted  for  joy  ;  and  God,  beholding,  saw 

The  fair  design,  that  from  eternity 

His  mind  conceived,  accomplished,  and,  well  pleased 

His  six  days  finished  work  most  good  pronounced, 

And  man  declared  the  sovereign  prince  of  alL 

All  else  was  prone,  irrational,  and  mute, 
And  unaccountable,  by  instinct  led. 
But  man  He  made  of  angel  form  erect, 
To  hold  communion  with  the  Heavens  above ; 
And  on  his  soul  impressed  his  image  fair 
His  own  similitude  of  holiness, 
Of  virtue,  truth,  and  love ;  with  reason  nign 
To  balance  right  and  wrong,  and  consicnce  quick 
To  choose  or  to  reject ;  with  knowledge  great, 
Prudence  and  wisdom,  vigilance  and  strength, 
To  guard  all  force  or  guile  ;  and,  last  of  all, 
The  highest  gift  of  God's  abundant  grace, 
With  perfect,  free,  unbiased  will.     Thus  man 
Was  made  upright,  immortal  made,  and  crowned 
The  king  of  all ;  to  eat,  to  drink,  to  do 
Freely  and  sovereignly  his  will  entire  ; — 
By  one  command  alone  restrained,  to  prove, 
As  was  most  just,  his  filial  love  sincere, 
His  loyalty,  obedience  due,  and  faith. 
And  thus  the  prohibition  ran,  expressed, 
A.S  God  is  wont,  in  terms  of  plainest  truth. 

Of  every  tree  that  in  the  garden  grows 
Thou  mayest  freely  eat ;  but  of  the  tree 


BOOK  n. 


That  knowledge  hath  of  good  and  ill,  eat  not, 
Nor  touch  ;  for  in  the  day  thou  eatest,  thou 
Shalt  die.     Go  and  this  one  command  obey, 
Adam,  live  and  be  happy,  and  with  thy  Eve, 
Fit  consort,  multiply  and  fill  the  earth. 

Thus  they,  the  representatives  of  men, 
Were  placed  in  Eden,  choicest  spot  of  earth. 
With  royal  honor  and  with  glory  crowned, 
Adam,  the  Lord  of  all,  majestic  walked, 
With  godlike  countenance  sublime,  and  form 
Of  lofty  towering  strength  ;  and  by  his  side 
Eve,  fair  as  morning  star,  with  modesty 
Arrayed,  with  virtue,  grace,  and  perfect  love 
In  holy  marriage  wed,  and  eloquent 
Of  thought  and  comely  words,  to  worship  God 
And  sing  his  praise,  the  Giver  of  all  good  : 
Glad,  in  each  other  glad,  and  glad  in  hope  ; 
Rejoicing  in  their  future  happy  race. 

O  lovely,  happy,  blest,  immortal  pair  ! 
Pleased  with  the  present,  full  of  glorious  hope. 
But  short,  alas  !  the  song  that  sings  their  bliss  ! 
Henceforth  the  history  of  man  grows  dark  ! 
Shade  after  shade  of  deepening  gloom  descends  ; 
And  Innocence  laments  her  robes  defiled. 
Who  farther  sings,  must  change  the  pleasant  Ivrt 
To  heavy  notes  of  wo.     Why  !  dost  thou  ask, 
Surprised  ?    The  answer  will  surprise  thee  more. 
Man  sinned  ;  tempted,  he  ate  the  guarded  tree  ;— 
Tempted  of  whom  thou  afterwards  shall  hear;  — 
Audacious,  unbelieving,  proud,  ungrateful, 
He  ate  the  interdicted  fruit,  and  fell  ; 
And  in  his  fall,  his  universal  race  ; 
For  they  in  him  by  delegation  were, 
In  him  to  stand  or  fall,  to  live  or  die. 
16 


182  THE    COTJKSB    OF   TIME. 

Man  most  ingrate  !  so  full  of  grace,  to  sin. 
Here  interposed  the  new-arrived,  so  full 
Of  bliss,  to  sin  against  the  Gracious  One ! 
The  holy,  just,  and  good  !  the  Eternal  Love ! 
Unseen,  unheard,  unthought  of  wickedness  ! 
Why  slumbered  vengeance  ?    No,  it  slumbered  not 
The  ever  just  and  righteous  God  would  let 
His  fury  loose,  and  satisfy  his  threat. 

That  had  been  just,  replied  the  reverend  bard ; 
But  done,  fair  youth,  thou  ne'er  hadst  met  me  here, 
I  ne'er  had  seen  yon  glorious  throne  in  peace. 

Thy  powers  are  great,  originally  great, 
And  purified  even  at  the  fount  of  light. 
Exert  them  now,  call  all  their  vigor  out ; 
Take  room,  think  vastly,  meditate  intensely, 
lleason  profoundly;  send  conjecture  forth; 
Let  fancy  fly,  stoop  down,  ascend ;  all  length, 
All  breadth  explore,  all  moral,  all  divine ; 
Ask  prudence,  justice,  mercy  ask,  and  might ; 
Weigh  good  with  evil,  balance  right  with  wrong ; 
With  virtue  vice  compare,  hatred  with  love  ; 
God's  holiness,  God's  justice,  and  God's  truth, 
Deliberately  and  cautiously  compare 
With  sinful,  wicked,  vile,  rebellious  man  ; — 
Arid  see  if  thou  canst  punish  sin,  and  let 
Mankind  go  free.     Thou  failst ;  be  not  surprised ; 
I  bade  thee  search  in  vain.     Eternal  love, — 
Harp,  lift  thy  voice  on  high ! — eternal  love, 
Eternal,  sovereign  love,  and  sovereign  grace, 
Wisdom,  and  power,  and  mercy  infinite, 
The  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Spirit,  God, 
Devised  the  wondrous  plan,  devised,  achieved. 
And  in  achieving  made  the  marvel  more. 
Attend,  ye  heavens  !  ye  heaven  of  heavens,  attend  I 


183 


Attend  and  wonder,  wonder  evermore ! 

When  man  had  fallen,  rebelled,  insulted  God ; 

Was  most  polluted,  yet  most  madly  proud ; 

Indebted  infinitely,  yet  most  poor ; 

Captive  to  sin,  yet  willing  to  be  bound ; 

To  God's  incensed  justice  and  hot  wrath 

Exposed,  due  victim  of  eternal  death 

And  utter  wo — Harp,  lift  thy  voice  on  high  ! 

Ye  everlasting  hills  !  ye  angels  !  bow  ; 

Bow,  ye  redeemed  of  men  ! — God  was  made  flesh, 

And  dwelt  with  man  on  earth  !     The  Son  of  God, 

Only  begotten  and  well  beloved,  between 

Men  and  his  Father's  justice  interposed ; 

Put  human  nature  on  ;  His  wrath  sustained  ; 

And  in  their  name  suffered,  obeyed,  and  died, 

Making  his  soul  an  offering  for  sin  ; 

Just  for  unjust,  and  innocence  for  guilt, 

By  doing,  suffering,  dying  unconstrained, 

Save  by  omnipotence  of  boundless  grace, 

Complete  atonement  made  to  God  appeased, 

Made  honorable  his  insulted  law, 

Turning  the  wrath  aside  from  pardoned  man. 

Thus  Truth  with  Mercy  met,  and  Righteousness, 

Stooping  from  highest  heaven,  embraced  fair  Peaco, 

That  walked  the  earth  in  fellowship  with  Love. 

O  love  divine  !  O  mercy  infinite  ! 
The  audience  here  in  glowing  rapture  broke ; 
O  love,  all  height  above,  all  depth  below, 
Surpassing  far  all  knowledge,  all  desire, 
All  thought !     The  Holy  One  for  sinners  dies  ! 
The  Lord  of  life  for  guilty  rebels  bleeds, 
Quenches  eternal  fire  with  blood  divine  ! 
Abundant  mercy  !  overflowing  grace  ! 
There,  whence  I  came,  I  something  heard  of  men ; 
Their  name  had  reached  us,  and  report  did  speak 


184  THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 

Of  some  abominable  horrid  thing, 

Of  desperate  offence  they  had  committed. 

And  something  too  of  wondrous  grace  we  heard. 

And  oft  of  our  celestial  visitants 

What  man,  what  God  had  done,  inquired;  but  they 

Forbid,  our  asking  never  met  directly, 

Exhorting  still  to  persevere  upright, 

And  we  should  hear  in  heaven,  though  greatly  blost 

Ourselves,  new  wonders  of  God's  wondrous  love. 

This  hinting,  keener  appetite  to  know 

Awaked  ;  and  as  we  talked,  and  much  admired 

What  new  we  there  should  learn,  we  hasted  each 

To  nourish  virtue  to  perfection  up, 

That  we  might  have  our  wondering  resolved, 

And  leave  of  louder  praise  to  greater  deeds 

Of  loving  kindness  due.     Mysterious  love  ! 

God  was  made  flesh,  and  dwelt  with  men  on  earth  ; 

Blood  holy,  blood  divine  for  sinners  shed  ! 

My  asking  ends,  but  makes  my  wonder  more. 

Saviour  of  men  !  henceforth  be  thou  my  theme ; 

Redeeming  love,  my  study  day  and  night. 

Mankind  were  lost,  all  lost,  and  all  redeemed  ! 

Thou  errst  again,  but  innocently  errst, 
Not  knowing  sin's  depravity,  nor  man's 
Sincere  and  persevering  wickdness. 
All  were  redeemed  ?     Not  all,  or  thou  hadst  heard 
No  human  voice  in  hell.     Many  refused, 
Although  beseeched,  refused  to  be  redeemed, 
Redeemed  from  death  to  life,  from  wo  to  bliss  ! 

Canst  thou  believe  my  song  when  thus  I  sing  ? 
When  man  had  fallen,  was  ruined,  hopeless,  lost— 
Ye  choral  harps  !  ye  angels  that  excel 
In  strength  !  and  loudest,  ye  redeemed  of  men  ! 
To  God,  to  Him  that  sits  upon  the  throne 


BOOK.  n.  185 

On  high,  and  to  the  Lamb,  sing  honor,  sing 
Dominion,  glory,  blessing  sing,  and  praise ! — 
When  man  had  fallen,  was  ruined,  hopeless,  lost, 
Messiah,  Prince  of  Peace,  Eternal  King, 
Died,  that  the  dead  might  live,  the  lost  be  saved. 
Wonder,  O  heavens !  and  be  astonished,  earth  ! 
Thou  ancient,  thou  forgotten  earth!   ye  worlds,  ad 
mire! 

Admire  and  be  confounded!  and  thou  hell, 
Deepen  thy  eternal  groan! — .men  would  not  be 
Redeemed,— I  speak  of  many,  not  of  all,— 
Would  not  be  saved  for  lost,  have  life  for  death! 

Mysterious  song!    the  new-arrived  exclaimed, 
Mysterious  mercy!  most  mysterious  hate! 
To  disobey  was  mad,  this  madder  far, 
Incurable  insanity  of  will! 
What  now  but  wrath  could  guilty  men  expect  ? 
What  more  could  love,  what  more  could  mercy  do  ? 

No  more,  resumed  the  bard,  no  more  they  could. 
Thou  hast  seen  hell.     The  wicked  there  lament ! 
And  why  ?  for  love  and  mercy  twice  despised. 
The  husbandman,  who  sluggishly  forgot 
In  spring  to  plough  and  sow,  could  censure  none, 
Though  winter  clamored  round  his  empty  barns. 
But  he  who,  having  thus  neglected,  did 
Refuse,  when  autumn  came,  and  famine  threatened, 
To  reap  the  golden  field  that  charity 
Bestowed  ;  nay,  more  obdurate,  proud,  and  blind, 
And  stupid  still,  refused,  though  much  beseecled, 
And  long  entreated,  even  with  Mercy's  tears, 
To  eat  what  to  his  very  lips  was  held, 
Cooked  temptingly, — he  certainly,  at  least, 
Deserved  to  die  of  hunger,  unbemoaned. 
So  did  the  wicked  spurn  the  grace  of  God ; 
16* 


186  THE   COURSE   OP  TIME. 

And  so  were  punished  with  the  second  death. 

The  first,  no  doubt,  punition  less  severe 

Intended ;  death,  belike,  of  all  entire. 

But  this  incurred,  by  God  discharged,  and  life 

Freely  presented,  and  again  despised, 

Despised,  though  bought  with  Mercy's  proper  blood  } 

'Twas  this  dug  hell,  and  kindled  all  its  bounds 

With  wrath  and  unextinguishable  fire. 

Free  was  the  offer,  free  to  all,  of  life 
And  of  salvation ;  but  the  proud  of  heart, 
Because  'twas  free,  would  not  accept ;  and  still 
To  merit  wished ;  and  choosing,  thus  unshipped, 
XJncompassed,  unprovisioned,  and  bestormed, 
To  swim  a  sea  of  breadth  immeasurable, 
They  scorned  the  goodly  bark,  whose  wings  the  breat)i 
Of  God's  eternal  Spirit  filled  for  heaven, 
That  stopped  to  take  them  in, — and  so  were  lost! 

What  wonders  dost  thou  tell!  to  merit  how! 
Of  creature  meriting  in  sight  of  God, 
As  right  of  service  done,  I  never  heard 
Till  now.     We  never  fell ;  in  virtue  stood 
Upright,  and  persevered  in  holiness  ; 
But  stood  by  grace,  by  grace  we  persevered. 
Ourselves,  our  deeds,  our  holiest,  highest  deeds, 
Unworthy  aught ;  grace  worthy  endless  praise. 
If  we  fly  swift,  obedient  to  his  will, 
He  gives  us  wings  to  fly  ;  if  we  resist 
Temptation,  and  ne'er  fall,  it  is  his  shield 
Omnipotent  that  wards  it  off ;  if  we, 
With  love  unquenchable,  before  him  burn, 
'Tis  he  that  lights  and  keeps  alive  the  flame. 
Men  surely  lost  their  reason  in  their  fall, 
And  did  not  understand  the  offer  made. 


BOOK.    II. 


187 


They  might  have  understood,  the  bard  replied ; 
They  had  the  Bible.    Hast  thou  ever  heard 
Of  such  a  book  ?    The  author,  God  himself ; 
The  subject,  God  and  man,  salvation,  life 
And  death— eterna-  life,  eternal  death — 
Dread  words !  whose  meaning  has  no  end,  no  bounds- 
Most  wondrous  book!  bright  candle  of  the  Lord! 
Star  of  eternity!  the  only  star 
By  which  the  bark  of  man  could  navigate 
The  sea  of  life,  and  gain  the  coast  of  bliss 
Securely!  only  star  which  rose  on  Time, 
And  on  its  dark  and  troubled  billows,  still, 
As  generation,  drifting  swiftly  by, 
Succeeded  generation,  threw  a  ray 
Of  heaven's  own  light,  and  to  the  hills  of  God, 
The  eternal  hills,  pointed  the  sinner's  eye. 
By  prophets,  seers,  and  priests,  and  sacred  bards, 
Evangelists,  apostles,  men  inspired, 
And  by  the  Holy  Ghost  anointed,  set 
Apart  and  consecrated  to  declare 
To  Earth  the  counsels  of  the  Eternal  One, 
This  book,  this  holiest,  this  sublimest  book 
Was  sent.  Heaven's  will,  Heaven's  code  of  laws  entire, 
To  man,  this  book  contained  ;  denned  the  bounds 
Of  vice  and  virtue,  and  of  life  and  death ; 
And  what  was  shadow,  what  was  substance  taught. 
Much  it  revealed  ;  important  all ;  the  least 
Worth  more  than  what  else  seemed  of  highest  worth, 
But  this  of  plainest,  most  essential  truth  : 
That  God  is  one,  eternal,  holy,  just, 
Omnipotent,  omniscient,  infinite ; 
Most  wise,  most  good,  most  merciful  and  true ; 
In  all  perfection  most  unchangeable  : 
That  man,  that  every  man  of  every  clime 
And  hue,  of  every  age  and  every  rank, 
Was  bad,  by  nature  and  by  practice  bad ; 


188  THE    COURSE    OF   ' 

In  understanding  blind,  in  will  perverse, 

In  heart  corrupt ;  in  every  thought,  and  word, 

Imagination,  passion,  and  desire, 

Most  utterly  depraved  throughout,  and  ill, 

In  sight  of  Heaven,  though  less  in  sight  of  man ; 

At  enmity  with  God  his  maker  born, 

And  by  his  very  life  an  heir  of  death : 

That  man,  that  every  man  was,  farther,  most 

Unable  to  redeem  himself,  or  pay 

One  mjte  of  his  vast  debt  to  God ;  nay,  more, 

Was  most  reluctant  and  averse  to  be 

Redeemed,  and  sin's  most  voluntary  slave : 

That  Jesus,  Son  of  God,  of  Mary  born 

In  Bethlehem,    and  by  Pilate  crucified 

On  Calvary,  for  man,  thus  fallen  and  lost, 

Died ;  and,  by  Death,  life  and  salvation  bought, 

And  perfect  righteousness,  for  all  who  should 

In  his  great  name  believe  :  That  He,  the  third 

In  the  eternal  essence,  to  the  prayer 

Sincere  should  come,  should  come  as  soon  as  asked. 

Proceeding  from  the  Father  and  the  Son, 

To  give  faith  and  repentance,  such  as  God 

Accepts  ;  to  open  the  intellectual  eyes, 

Blinded  by  sin  ;  to  bend  the  stubborn  will, 

Perversely  to  the  side  of  wrong  inclined, 

To  God  and  his  commandments,  just  and  good ; 

The  wild,  rebellious  passions  to  subdue, 

And  bring  them  back  to  harmony  with  Heaven ; 

To  purifv  the  conscience,  and  to  lead 

The  mind  into  all  truth,  and  to  adorn 

With  every  holy  ornament  of  grace, 

And  sanctify  the  whole  renewed  soul, 

Which  henceforth  might  no  more  fall  totally, 

But  persevere,  though  erring  oft,  amidst 

The  mists  of  Time,  in  piety  to  God, 

And  sacred  works  of  charity  to  men : 


BOOK  n.  189 

That  te  who  thus  believed,  and  practised  thus, 
Should  have  his  sins  forgiven,  however  vile  ; 
Should  be  sustained  at  mid-day,  morn,  and  even, 
By  God's  omnipotent,  eternal  grace  ; 
And  in  the  evil  hour  of  sore  disease, 
Temptation,  persecution,  war,  and  death, — 
For  temporal  death,  although  unstinged,  remained,— 
Beneath  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty's  wings 
Should  sit  unhurt,  and  at  the  judgment  day, 
Should  share  the  resurrection  of  the  just, 
And  reign  with  Christ  in  bliss  for  evermore  : 
That  all,  however  named,  however  great, 
Who  would  not  thus  believe,  nor  practise  thus, 

But  in  their  sins  impenitent  remained, 

Should  in  perpetual  fear  and  terror  live  ; 

Should  die  unpardoned,  unredeemed,  unsaved ; 

And,  at  the  hour  of  doom,  should  be  cast  out 

To  utter  darkness  in  the  night  of  hell, 

By  mercy  and  by  God  abandoned,  there 

To  reap  the  harvests  of  eternal  wo. 

This  did  that  book  declare  in  obvious  phrase, 
In  most  sincere  and  honest  words,  by  God 
Himself  selected  and  arranged,  so  clear, 
So  plain,  so  perfectly  distinct,  that  none 
Whq  read  with  humble  wish  to  understand, 
And  asked  the  Spirit,  given  to  all  who  asked, 
Could  miss  their  meaning,  blazed  in  heavenly  light, 

This  book,  this  holy  book,  on  every  line 
Marked  with  the  seal  of  high  divinity, 
On  every  leaf  bedewed  with  drops  of  love 
Divine,  and  with  the  eternal  heraldry 
And  signature  of  God  Almighty  stamped 
From  first  to  last,  this  ray  of  sacred  light, 
This  lamp,  from  off  the  everlasting  throne. 


190  THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 

Mercy  took  down,  and,  in  the  night  of  Time 
Stood,  casting  on  the  dark  her  gracious  bow ; 
And  evermore  beseeching  men,  with  tears 
And  earnest  sighs,  to  read,  believe,  and  live. 
And  many  to  her  voice  gave  ear,  and  read, 
Believed,  obeyed ;  and  now,  as  the  Amen, 
True,  Faithful  Witness  swore,  with  snowy  robes 
And  branchy  palms,  surround  the  fount  of  life, 
And  drink  the  streams  of  immortality, 
For  ever  happy,  and  for  ever  young. 

Many  believed  ;  but  more  the  truth  of  God 
Turned  to  a  lie,  deceiving  and  deceived ; 
Each  with  the  accursed  sorcery  of  sin, 
To  his  own  wish  and  vile  propensity 
Transforming  still  the  meaning  of  the  text. 

Hear,  while  I  briefly  tell  what  mortals  proved, 
By  effort  vast  of  ingenuity, 
Most  wondrous,  though  perverse  and  damnable, 
Proved  from  the  Bible,  which,  as  thou  hast  heard, 
So  plainly  spoke  that  all  could  understand. 
First,  and  not  least  in  number,  argued  some, 
From  out  this  book  itself,  it  was  a  lie, 
A  fable,  framed  by  crafty  men,  to  cheat 
The  simple  herd,  and  make  them  bow  the  knee 
To  kings  and  priests.    These,  in  their  wisdom,  left 
The  light  revealed,  and  turned  to  fancies  wild ; 
Maintaining  loud,  that  ruined,  helpless  man, 
Needed  no  Saviour.     Others  proved  that  men 
Might  live  and  die  in  sin,  and  yet  be  saved, 
For  so  it  was  decreed  ;  binding  the  will, 
By  God  left  free,  to  unconditional, 
Unreasonable  fate.     Others  believed 
That  he  who  was  most  criminal,  debased, 
Condemned,  and  dead,  unaided  might  ascend 


BOOK    II. 


191 


The  heights  of  virtue  ;  to  a  perfect  law 

Giving  a  lame,  half-way  obedience,  which 

By  useless  effort  only  served  to  show 

The  impotence  of  him  who  vainly  strove 

With  finite  arm  to  measure  infinite ; 

Most  useless  effort,  when  to  justify 

In  sight  of  God  it  meant,  as  proof  of  faith 

Most  acceptable  and  worthy  of  all  praise. 

Another  held,  and  from  the  Bible  held, 

He  was  infallible,  most  fallen  by  such 

Pretence  ;  that  none  the  Scriptures,  open  to  all, 

And  most  to  humble-hearted,  ought  to  read, 

But  priests  ;  that  all  who  ventured  to  disclaim 

His  forged  authority,  incurred  the  wrath 

Of  Heaven  ;  and  he  who,  in  the  blood  of  such, 

Though  father,  mother,  daughter,  wife,  or  son, 

Imbrued  his  hands,  did  most  religious  work, 

Well  pleasing  to  the  heart  of  the  Most  High. 

Others  in  outward  rite  devotion  placed, 

In  meats,  in  drinks,  in  robe  of  certain  shape, 

In  bodily  abasements,  bended  knees  ; 

Days,  numbers,  places,  vestments,  words,  and  names  ; 

Absurdly  in  their  hearts  imagining, 

That  God,  like  men,  was  pleased  with  outward  show 

Another,  stranger  and  more  wicked  still, 

With  dark  and  dolorous  labor,  ill  applied, 

With  many  a  gripe  of  consience,  and  with  most 

Unhealthy  and  abortive  reasoning, 

That  brought  his  sanity  to  serious  doubt, 

'Mong  wise  and  honest  men,  maintained  that  He, 

First  Wisdom,  Great  Messiah,  Prince  of  Peace, 

The  second  of  the  uncreated  Three, 

Was  naught  but  man,  of  earthly  origin: 

Thus  making  void  the  sacrifice  divine, 

And  leaving  guilty  men,  God's  holy  law 

Still  unatoned,  to  work  them  endless  death- 


192  THE   COURSE   OP   TIME. 

These  are  a  part ;  but  to  relate  thee  all 
The  monstrous,  unbaptized  fantasies, 
Imaginations  fearfully  absurd, 
Hobgoblin  rites,  and  moon-struck  reveries, 
Distracted  creeds,  and  visionary  dreams, 
More  bodiless  and  hideously  misshapen 
Than  ever  fancy,  at  the  noon  of  night, 
Playing  at  will,  framed  in  the  madman's  brain, 
That  from  this  book  of  simple  truth  were  proved, 
Were  proved,  as  foolish  men  were  wont  to  prove, 
Would  bring  my  word  in  doubt,  and  thy  belief 
Stagger,  though  here  I  sit  and  sing,  within 
The  pale  of  truth,  where  falsehood  never  came. 

The  rest,  who  lost  the  heavenly  light  revealed, 
Not  wishing  to  retain  God  in  their  minds, 
In  darkness  wandered  on.     Yet  could  they  not, 
Though  moral  night  around  them  drew  her  pall 
Of  blackness,  rest  in  utter  unbelief. 
The  voice  within,  the  voice  of  God,  that  naught 
Could  bribe  to  sleep,  though  steeped  in  sorceries 
Of  hell,  and  much  abused  by  whisperings 
Of  evil  spirits  in  the  dark,  announced 
A  day  of  judgment  and  a  Judge,  a  day 
Of  misery  or  bliss  :  and,  being  ill 
At  ease,  for  gods  they  chose  them  stocks  and  stones, 
Reptiles,  and  weeds,  and  beasts,  and  creeping  things, 
And  spirits  accursed,  ten  thousand  deities  ! 
Imagined  worse  than  he  who  craved  their  peace ; 
And,  bowing,  worshipped  these,  as  best  beseemed, 
With  midnight  revelry  obscene  and  loud, 
With  dark,  infernal,  devilish  ceremonies, 
And  horrid  sacrifice  of  human  flesh, 
That  made  the  fair  heavens  blush.     So  bad  was  sin ; 
So  lost,  so  ruined,  so  depraved  was  man, 
Created  first  in  God's  own  image  fair. 


BOOK  n.  193 

Oh,  cursed,  cursed  Sin !  traitor  to  God, 
And  ruiner  of  man  !  mother  of  Wo, 
And  Death,  and  Hell !  wretched,  yet  seeking  worse; 
Polluted  most,  yet  wallowing  in  the  mire ; 
Most  mad,  yet  drinking  Frenzy's  giddy  cup  ; 
Depth  ever  deepening,  darkness  darkening  still ; 
Folly  for  wisdom,  guilt  for  innocence  ; 
Anguish  for  rapture,  and  for  hope  despair ; 
Destroyed,  destroying  ;  in  tormenting,  pained ; 
Unawed  by  wrath,  by  mercy  unreclaimed ; 
Thing  most  unsightly,  most  forlorn,  most  sad, 
Thy  time  on  earth  is  passed,  thy  war  with  God 
And  holiness.     But  who,  oh,  who  shall  tell, 
Thy  unrep  en  table  and  ruinous  thoughts  ! 
Thy  sighs,  thy  groans !  who  reckon  thy  burning  tears, 
And  damned  looks  of  everlasting  grief, 
Where  now,  with  those  who  took  their  part  with  thee, 
Thou  sittest  in  hell,  gnawred  by  the  eternal  Worm, 
To  hurt  no  more,  on  all  the  holy  hills  ! 

That  those,  deserting  once  the  lamp  of  truth, 
Should  wander  ever  on,  from  worse  to  worse 
Erroneously,  thy  wonder  needs  not  ask  ; 
But  that  enlightened,  reasonable  men, 
Knowing  themselves  accountable,  to  whom 
God  spoke  from  heaven,  and  by  his  servants  warned, 
Both  day  and  night,  with  earnest,  pleading  voice, 
Of  retribution  equal  to  their  works, 
Should  persevere  in  evil,  and  be  lost, — 
This  strangeness,  this  unpardonable  guilt, 
Demands  an  answer,  which  my  song  unfolds, 
In  part,  directly  ;  but,  hereafter,  more, 
To  satisfy  thy  wonder,  thou  shalt  learn, 
Inferring  much  from  what  is  yet  to  sing. 

Know,  then,  of  men  who  sat  in  highest  place, 
Exalted,  and  firr  sin  by  others  done 
17 


194  THE   COURSE   OF  TIME. 

Were  chargeable,  the  king  and  priests  were  chief 
Many  were  faithful,  holy,  just,  upright, 
Faithful  to  God  and  man,  reigning  renowned 
In  righteousness,  and,  to  the  people,  loud 
And  fearless,  speaking  all  the  words  of  life. 
These,  at  the  judgment- day,  as  thou  shalt  hear, 
Abundant  harvest  reaped.     But  many,  too, 
Alas,  how  many  !  famous  now  in  hell, 
Were  wicked,  cruel,  tyrannous,  and  vile  ; 
Ambitious  of  themselves,  abandoned,  mad ; 
And  still  from  servants  hasting  to  be  gods, 
Such  gods  as  now  they  serve  in  Erebus. 
I  pass  their  lewd  example  by,  that  led 
So  many  wrong,  for  courtly  fashion  lost, 
And  prove  them  guilty  of  one  crime  alone. 
Of  every  wicked  ruler,  prince  supreme, 
Or  magistrate  below,  the  one  intent, 
Purpose,  desire,  and  struggle,  day  and  night, 
Was  evermore  to  wrest  the  crown  from  off 
Messiah's  head,  and  put  it  on  his  own ; 
And  in  His  place  give  spiritual  laws  to  men ; 
To  bind  religion,  free  by  birth,  by  God 
And  nature  free,  and  made  accountable 
To  none  but  God,  behind  the  wheels  of  state ; 
To  make  the  holy  altar,  where  the  Prince 
Of  life,  incarnate,  bled  to  ransom  man, 
A  footstool  to  the  throne.     For  this  they  met. 
Assembled,  counselled,  meditated,  planned  ; 
Devised  in  open  and  secret ;  and  for  this 
Enacted  creeds  of  wondrous  texture,  creeds 
The  Bible  never  owned,  unsanctioned  too, 
And  reprobate  in  heaven  ;  but,  by  the  power 
That  made, — exerted  now  in  gentler  form, 
Monopolizing  rights  and  privileges, 
Equal  to  all,  and  waving  new  the  sword 
Of  persecution  fierce,  tempered  in  hell, — 


BOOK    II.  196 

Forced  on  the  conscience  of  inferior  men : 
The  conscience,  that  sole  monarchy  in  man, 
Owing  allegiance  to  no  earthly  prince  ; 
Made  by  the  edict  of  creation  free ; 
Made  sacred,  made  above  all  human  laws  ; 
Holding  of  heaven  alone ;  of  most  divine 
And  indefeasible  authority ; 
An  individual  sovereignty,  that  none 
Created  might,  unpunished,  bind  or  touch ; 
Unbound,  save  by  the  eternal  laws  of  God, 
And  unamenable  to  all  below. 

Thus  did  the  uncircumcised  potentates 
Of  earth  debase  religion  in  the  sight 
Of  those  they  ruled,  who,  looking  up,  beheld 
The  fair  celestial  gift  despised,  enslaved 
And,  mimicking  the  folly  of  the  great, 
With  prompt  docility  despised  her  too. 

The  prince  or  magistrate,  however  named 
Or  praised,  who,  knowing  better,  acted  thus, 
Was  wicked,  and  received,  as  he  deserved, 
Damnation.     But  the  unfaithful  priest,  what  tongue 
Enough  shall  execrate  ?     His  doctrine  may 
Be  passed,  though  mixed  with  most  unhallowed  leaven, 
That  proved,  to  those  who  foolishly  partook, 
Eternal  bitterness.     But  this  was  still 
His  sin,  beneath  what  cloak  soever  veiled, 
His  ever  growing  and  perpetual  sin, 
First,  last,  and  middle  thought,  whence  every  wish, 
Whence  every  action  rose,  and  ended  both  : 
To  mount  to  place,  and  power  of  worldly  sort ; 
To  ape  the  gaudy  pomp  and  equipage 
Of  earthly  state,  and  on  his  mitred  brow 
To  place  a  royai  crown.     For  this  he  sold 
The  sacrca  truth  to  him  who  most  would  give 


196  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME. 

Of  titles,  benefices,  honors,  names ; 
For  this  betrayed  his  Master ;  and  for  this 
Made  merchandise  of  the  immortal  souls 
Committed  to  his  care.     This  was  his  sin. 

Of  all  who  office  held  unfairly,  none 
Could  plead  excuse  ;  he  least  and  last  of  all. 
By  solemn,  awful  ceremony,  he 
Was  set  apart  to  speak  the  truth  entire, 
By  action  and  by  word  ;  and  round  him  stood 
The  people,  from  his  lips  expecting  knowledge. 
One  day  in  seven,  the  Holy  Sabbath  termed, 
They  stood ;  for  he  had  sworn,  in  face  of  God 
And  man,  to  deal  sincerely  with  their  souls ; 
To  preach  the  gospel  for  the  gospel's  sake ; 
Had  sworn  to  hate  and  put  away  all  pride, 
All  vanity,  all  love  of  earthly  pomp  ; 
To  seek  all  mercy,  meekness,  truth,  and  grace ; 
And  being  so  endowed  himself,  and  taught, 
In  them  like  works  of  holiness  to  move ; 
Dividing  faithfully  the  word  of  life. 
And  oft  indeed  the  word  of  life  he  taught ; 
But  practising  as  thou  hast  heard,  who  could 
Believe  !     Thus  was  Religion  wounded  sore 
At  her  own  altars,  and  among  her  friends. 
The  people  went  away,  and,  like  the  priest, 
Fulfilling  what  the  prophet  spoke  before, 
For  honor  strove,  and  wealth,  and  place,  as  if 
The  preacher  had  rehearsed  an  idle  tale. 
The  enemies  of  God  rejoiced,  and  loud 
The  unbeliever  laughed,  boasting  a  life 
Of  fairer  character  than  his  who  owned, 
For  king  and  guide,  the  undenled  One. 

Most  guilty,  villainous,  dishonest  man  ! 
Wolf  in  the  clothing  of  the  gentle  lamb ! 


BOOK    II.  197 

Dark  traitor  in  Messiah's  holy  camp  ! 
Leper  in  saintly  garb  !  assassin  masked 
In  Virtue's  robe  !  vile  hypocrite  accursed ! 
I  strive  in  vain  to  set  his  evil  forth  ! 
The  words  that  should  sufficiently  accurse 
And  execrate  such  reprobate,  had  need 
Come  glowing  from  the  lips  of  eldest  hell. 
Among  the  saddest  in  the  den  of  wo, 
Thou  sawst  him  saddest,  'mong  the  damned  most 
damned. 

But  why  should  I  with  indignation  burn, 
Not  well  beseeming  here,  and  long  forgot  ? 
Or  why  one  censure  for  another's  sin  ? 
Each  had  his  conscience,  each  his  reason,  will, 
And  understanding,  for  himself  to  search, 
To  choose,  reject,  believe,  consider,  act. 
And  God  proclaimed  from  heaven,  and  by  an  oath. 
Confirmed,  that  each  should  answer  for  himself : 
And  as  his  own  peculiar  work  should  be, 
Done  by  his  proper  self,  should  live  or  die. 
But  sin,  deceitful  and  deceiving  still, 
Had  gained  the  heart,  and  reason  led  astray. 

A  strange  belief,  that  leaned  its  idiot  back 
On  folly's  topmost  twig, — belief  that  God, 
Most  wise,  had  made  a  world,  had  creatures  made 
Beneath  his  care  to  govern  and  protect, — 
Devoured  its  thousands.    Reason,  not  the  true, 
Learned,  deep,  sober,  comprehensive,  sound ; 
But  bigoted,  one-eyed,  short-sighted  Reason, 
Most  zealous,  and  sometimes,  no  doubt,  sincere, 
Devoured  its  thousands.     Vanity  to  be 
Renowned  for  creed  eccentrical,  devoured 
Its  thousands  ;  but  a  lazy,  corpulent, 
And  over- credulous  faith,  that  leaned  on  ail 
17* 


-98  THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 

It  met,  nor  asked  if  'twas  a  reed  or  oak ; 
Stepped  on,  but  never  earnestly  inquired 
Whether  to  heaven  or  hell  the  journey  led, 
Devoured  its  tens  of  thousands,  and  its  hands 
Made  reddest  in  the  precious  blood  of  souls. 

In  Time's  pursuits  men  ran  till  out  of  breath. 
The  astronomer  soared  up,  and  counted  stars, 
And  gazed,  and  gazed  upon  the  heaven's  bright  fac« 
Till  he  dropped  down  dim-eyed  into  the  grave. 
The  numerist,  in  calculations  deep, 
Grew  gray.     The  merchant  at  his  desk  expired. 
The  statesman  hunted  for  another  place, 
Till  death  o'ertook  him,  and  made  him  his  prey. 
The  miser  spent  his  eldest  energy 
In  grasping  for  another  mite.     The  scribe 
Itubbed  pensively  his  old  and  withered  brow, 
Devising  new  impediments  to  hold 
In  doubt  the  suit  that  threatened  to  end  too  soon. 
The  priest  collected  tithes,  and  pleaded  rights 
Of  decimation  to  the  very  last. 
In  science,  learning,  all  philosophy, 
Men  labored  all  their  days,  and  labored  hard, 
And,  dying,  sighed  how  little  they  had  done. 
But  in  religion,  they  at  once  grew  wise. 
A  creed  in  print,  though  never  understood  ; 
A  theologic  system  on  the  shelf, 
Was  spiritual  lore  enough,  and  served  their  turn ; 
But  served  it  ill.     They  sinned,  and  never  knew. 
For  what  the  Bible  said  of  good  and  bad, 
Of  holiness  and  sin,  they  never  asked. 

Absurd,  prodigiously  absurd,  to  think 
That  man's  minute  and  feeble  faculties, 
Even  in  the  very  childhood  of  his  being, 
With  mortal  shadows  dimmed  and  wrapped  around. 


199 


Could  comprehend  at  once  the  mighty  scheme, 

Where  rolled  the  ocean  of  eternal  love ; 

"Where  wisdom  infinite  its  master-stroke 

Displayed  ;  and  where  omnipotence,  oppressed, 

Did  travail  in  the  greatness  of  its  strength ; 

And  everlasting  Justice  lifted  up 

The  sword  to  smite  the  guiltless  Son  of  God ; 

And  Mercy  smiling  bade  the  sinner  go  ! 

Redemption  is  the  science  and  the  song 

Of  all  eternity.     Archangels,  day 

And  night,  into  its  glories  look.     The  saints, 

The  elders  round  the  Throne,  old  in  the  years 

Of  heaven,  examine  it  perpetually ; 

And,  every  hour,  get  clearer,  ampler  views 

Of  right  and  wrong  ;  see  virtue's  beauty  more  ; 

See  vice  more  utterly  depraved  and  vile  ; 

And  this,  with  a  more  perfect  hatred,  hate ; 

That  daily  love  with  a  more  perfect  love. 

But  whether  I  for  man's  perdition  blame 
Office  administered  amiss,  pursuit 
Of  pleasure  false,  perverted  reason  blind, 
Or  indolence  that  ne'er  inquired  ;  I  blame 
Effect  and  consequence,  the  branch,  the  leaf. 
Who  finds  the  fount  and  bitter  root,  the  first 
And  guiltiest  cause  whence  sprung  this  endless  wo4 
Must  deep  descend  into  the  human  heart, 
And  find  it  there.     Dread  passion  !  making  men 
On  earth,  and  even  in  hell,  if  Mercy  yet 
Would  stoop  so  low,  unwilling  to  be  saved, 
If  saved  by  grace  of  God.     Hear,  then,  in  brief, 
What  peopled  hell,  what  holds  its  prisoners  there. 

Pride,  self-adoring  pride,  was  primal  cause 
Of  all  sin  passed,  all  pain,  all  wo  to  come. 
Unconquerable  pride  !  first,  eldest  sin, 


200  THE   COUBSE   OF   TIME. 

Great  fountain-head  of  evil !  highest  source, 

Whence  flowed  rebellion  'gainst  the  Omnipotent, 

Whence  hate  of  man  to  man,  and  all  else  ill. 

Pride  at  the  bottom  of  the  human  heart 

Lay,  and  gave  root  and  nourishment  to  all 

That  grew  above.     Great  ancestor  of  vice ! 

Hate,  unbelief,  and  blasphemy  of  God ; 

Envy  and  slander,  malice  and  revenge ; 

And  murder,  and  deceit,  and  every  birth 

Of  damned  sort,  was  progeny  of  pride. 

It  was  the  ever-moving,  acting  force, 

The  constant  aim,  and  the  most  thirsty  wish 

Of  every  sinner  unrenewed,  to  be 

A  god  ;  in  purple  or  in  rags,  to  have 

Himself  adored.     Whatever  shape  or  form 

His  actions  took,  whatever  phrase  he  threw 

About  his  thoughts,  or  mantle  o'er  his  life, 

To  be  the  highest,  was  the  inward  cause 

Of  all ;  the  purpose  of  the  heart  to  be 

Set  up,  admired,  obeyed.     But  who  would  bow 

The  knee  to  one  who  served  and  was  dependent  ? 

Hence  man's  perpetual  struggle,  night  and  day, 

To  prove  he  was  his  own  proprietor, 

And  independent  of  his  God  ;  that  what 

He  had  might  be  esteemed  his  own,  and  praised 

As  such.     He  labored  still,  and  tried  to  stand 

Alone,  unpropped,  to  be  obliged  to  none  ; 

And  in  the  madness  of  his  pride,  he  bade 

His  God  farewell,  and  turned  away  to  be 

A  god  himself;  resolving  to  rely, 

Whatever  came,  upon  his  own  right  hand. 


O  desperate  frenzy  !  madness  of  the  will ! 
And  drunkenness  of  the  heart !  that  naught  could 
quench, 


BOOK.  n. 


201 


But  floods  of  wo,  poured  from  the  sea  of  wrath, 

Behind  which  mercy  set.    To  think  to  turn 

The  back  on  life  original,  and  live  ! 

The  creature  to  set  up  a  rival  throne 

In  the  Creator's  realm  !  to  deity 

A  worm  !  and  in  the  sight  of  God  be  proud 

To  lift  an  arm  of  flesh  against  the  shafts 

Of  the  Omnipresent,  and,  midst  his  wrath, 

To  seek  for  happiness  !— insanity 

Most  mad  !  guilt  most  complete  !     Seest  thou  those 

worlds 

That  roll  at  various  distance  round  the  throne 
Of  God,  innumerous,  and  till  the  calm 
Of  heaven  with  sweetest  harmony,  when  saints 
And  angels  sleep  ?     As  one  of  these,  from  love 
Centripetal  withdrawing,  and  from  light, 
And  heat,  and  nourishment  cut  off,  should  rush 
Abandoned  o'er  the  line  that  runs  between 
Create  and  increate,  from  ruin  driven 
To  ruin  still,  through  the  abortive  waste  ; 
So  pride  from  God  drew  off  the  bad  ;  and  so, 
Forsaken  of  him,  he  lets  them  ever  try 
Taeir  single  arm  against  the  second  death  ; 
Amidst  vindictive  thunders  lets  them  try 
The  stoutness  of  their  hearts,  and  lets  them  try 
To  quench  their  thirst  amidst  the  unfading  fire ; 
And  to  reap  joy  where  he  has  sown  despair  ; 
To  walk  alone,  unguided,  unbemoaned, 
Where  Evil  dwells,  and  Death,  and  moral  Night , 
In  utter  emptiness  to  find  enough  ; 
In  utter  dark  find  light ;  and  find  repose, 
Where  God  with  tempest  plagues  for  evermore. 
For  so  they  wished  it,  so  did  pride  desire. 

Such  was  the  cause  that  turned  so  many  off 
Eebelliously  from  God,  and  led  them  on 


202  THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 

From  vain  to  vainer  still,  in  endless  chase. 
And  such  the  cause  that  made  so  many  cheeks 
Pale,  and  so  many  knees  to  shake,  when  men 
Hose  from  the  grave  ;  as  thou  shalt  hear  anon. 


COURSE     OF     TIME 

BOOK  m. 


ANALYSIS  OF  BOOK  HI. 

The  Bard  proceeds  to  a  mors  full  description  of  the  "ways  ot 
Time,"  "  the  fond  pursuits  and  vanities  of  men."    Desire  ot 
happiness  was  universal  in  every  age;  but  the  star  of  God 
sliinin"  upon  the  only  path  to  it  was  not  heeded.    The  Bible 
taught  that  happiness  was  indissolubly  connected  with  virtue ; 
that  it  was  a  fruit  to  be  gathered  only  from  the  tree  of  hi 
ness,  uprooted  by  the  apostacy,  but  planted  again  by  the  Son 
of  Uod,  and  nourished  by  the  dewy  influences  of  the  Spirit. 
But,  disregarding  this,  men  pursued  happiness  in  ten  thoui 
mistaken  routes,  grasping  at  lying  shades  until  the  grave  re 
ceived  them.    Many  "  sweat  and  bled  for  GOLD  ;  "  most  fo 
the  luxuries  it  bought,  but  some  with  the  miser's  craving  ava 
rice.    Blinded  votaries  also  chased  the  Shadow  PLEASURE  ; 
who,  wiih  her  thousand  changing  forms  and  varying   robes, 
allured  to  her  thousand  fatal  haunts;  to  the  hall  of  giddy  dance, 
the  scene  of  thoughtless  revel,  the  harlot's  treacherous  bed. 
Another  Phantom  fleeting  in  the  mist  of  time  was  EARTHLY 
FAME  whose  voice  of  empty  breath  oft  deceived  the  men  of 
science  and  the  poet,  the  reverend  divine,  the  simple  artisan, 
the  vain  fair  one,  the  haughty  warrior,  the  proud  usurper 
Even  the  Drunkard's  bowl  and  the  Skeptic's  helmless  bark 
were  tried  in  the  wild  pursuit  of  happiness.    This  was  done, 
too  notwithstanding  the  warning  voice  of  wisdom  speaking  to 
man  loudly  in  the  Seasons,  the  Day,  the  Night,  the  Grave,  the 
Word  of  God  ;  notwithstanding  all  the  pangs  of  Remorse 
all  the  sorrows  of  Disappointment.    Against  these,  reckleaa 
men  closed  their  ears  and  their  hearts,  until  Death  revealed  to 
each  his  folly,  and  too  late  convinced  him  of  the  grand  I 
of  the  Bible,  "  Eternity  is  all." 

In   the    description    of   Disappointment   the  Authoi  is  happily 
introduced,  end  mention  made  of  interesting  circumstance. 
his  history. 


THE 

COURSE     OF     TIME 

BOOK    III. 

BEHOLDST  them  yonder,  on  the  crystal  sea, 
Beneath  the  throne  of  God,  an  image  fair, 
And  in  its  hand  a  mirror  large  and  bright  ? 
Tis  truth,  immutable,  eternal  truth, 
In  figure  emblematical  expressed. 
Before  it  Virtue  stands,  and  smiling  sees, 
Well  pleased,  in  her  reflected  soul,  no  spot. 
The  sons  of  heaven,  archangel,  seraph,  saint, 
There  daily  read  their  own  essentia.  worth  ; 
And,  as  they  read,  take  place  among  the  just , 
Or  high,  or  low,  each  as  his  value  seems. 
There  each  his  certain  interest  learns,  his  true 
Capacity  ;  and,  going  thence,  pursues, 
Unerringly,  through  all  the  tracts  of  thought, 
As  God  ordains,  best  ends  by  wisest  means. 

The  Bible  held  this  mirror's  place  on  earth. 
But,  few  would  read,  or,  reading,  saw  themselves. 
The  chase  was  after  shadows,  phantoms  strange, 
That  in  the  twilight  walked  of  Time,  and  mocked 
The  eager  hunt,  escaping  evermore  ; 
Yet  with  so  many  promises  and  looks 
Of  gentle  sort,  that  he  whose  arms  returned 
Empty  a  thousand  times,  still  stretched  them  out, 
And,  grasping,  brought  them  back  again  unfilled. 
18 


206  THE   COURSE   OF  TIME. 

In  rapid  out  one  thou  hast  heard  of  man, 
His  death,  his  offered  life,  that  life  by  most 
Despised,  the  Star  of  God,  the  Bible,  scorned, 
That  else  to  happiness  and  heaven  had  led, 
And  saved  my  lyre  from  narrative  of  wo. 
Hear  now  more  largely  of  the  ways  of  Time, 
The  fond  pursuits  and  vanities  of  men. 

"  Love  God,  love  truth,  love  virtue,  and  be  happy ; " 
These  were  the  words  first  uttered  in  the  ear 
Of  every  being  rational  made,  and  made 
For  thought,  or  word,  or  deed  accountable. 
Most  men  the  first  forgot,  the  second  none. 
Whatever  path  they  took,  by  hill  or  vale. 
By  night  or  day,  the  universal  wish, 
The  aim,  and  sole  intent,  was  happiness. 
But,  erring  from  the  heaven- appointed  path, 
Strange  tracks  indeed  they  took  through  barren  wastes, 
And  up  the  sandy  mountain  climbing  toiled, 
Which  pining  lay  beneath  the  curse  of  God, 
And  naught  produced.     Yet  did  the  traveller  look 
And  point  his  eye  before  him  greedily, 
As  if  he  saw  some  verdant  spot,  where  grew 
The  heavenly  flower,  where  sprung  the  well  of  life, 
Where  undisturbed  felicity  reposed ; 
Though  Wisdom's  eye  no  vestige  could  discern, 
That  Happiness  had  ever  passed  that  way. 

Wisdom  was  right,  for  still  the  terms  remained 
Unchanged,  unchangeable,  the  terms  on  which 
True  pe^ce  was  given  to  man,  unchanged  as  God, 
Who,  in  his  own  essential  nature,  binds 
Eternally  to  virtue  happiness, 
Nor  lets  them  part  through  all  his  universe. 

Philosophy,  as  thou  shalt  hear,  when  she 
Shall  have  her  praise,  her  praise  and  censure  too, 


BOOK.  m. 


207 


Did  nmch,  refining  and  exalting  man ; 
But  could  not  nurse  a  single  plant  that  bore 
True  happiness.     From  age  to  age  she  toiled. 
Shed  from  her  eyes  the  mist  that  dimmed  them  still, 
Looked  forth  on  man,  explored  the  wild  and  tamo, 
The  savage  and  polite,  the  sea  and  land, 
And  starry  heavens  ;  and  then  retired  far  back 
To  meditation's  silent,  shady  seat ; 
And  there  sat  pale,  and  thoughtfully,  and  weighed 
With  wary,  most  exact,  and  scrupulous  care 
Man's  nature,  passions,  hopes,  propensities, 
Relations,  and  pursuits,  in  reason's  scale ; 
And  searched  and  weighed,  and  weighed  and  search 
ed  again, 

And  many  a  fair  and  goodly  volume  wrote, 
That  seemed  well  worded  too,  wherein  were  found 
Uncountable  receipts,  pretending  each, 
If  carefully  attended  to,  to  cure 
Mankind  of  folly,  to  root  out  the  briers, 
And  thorns,  and  weeds,  that  choked  the  growth  of  joy  4 
And  showing  too,  in  plain  and  decent  phrase, 
"Which  sounded  much  like  Wisdom's,  how  to  plant, 
To  shelter,  water,  culture,  prune,  and  rear 
The  tree  of  happiness  ;  and  oft  their  plans 
Were  tried ;  but  still  the  fruit  was  green  and  sour. 

Of  all  the  trees  that  in  Earth's  vineyard  grew, 
And  with  their  clusters  tempted  man  to  pull 
And  eat,  one  tree,  one  tree  alone,  the  true 
Celestial  manna  bore,  which  filled  the  soul, 
The  tree  of  holiness,  of  heavenly  seed, 
A  native  of  the  skies  ;  though  stunted  much 
And  dwarfed,  by  Time's  cold,  damp,  ungenial  soil, 
And  chilling  winds,  yet  yielding  fruit  so  pure, 
So  nourishing  and  sweet,  as,  on  his  way, 
Refreshed  the  pilgrim  ;  and  begot  desire 


208  THE   COURSE   OF  TIMK. 

Unquenchable  to  climb  the  arduous  path 
To  where  her  sister  plants,  in  their  own  clin/e 
Around  the  fount,  and  by  the  stream  of  life, 
Blooming  beneath  the  Sun  that  never  sets, 
Bear  fruit  of  perfect  relish  fully  ripe. 

To  plant  this  tree,  uprooted  by  the  fall, 
To  earth  the  Son  of  God  descended,  shed 
His  precious  blood ;  and  on  it  evermore, 
From  off  his  living  wings,  the  Spirit  shook 
The  dews  of  heaven,  to  nurse  and  hasten  its  growth 
Nor  was  this  care,  this  infinite  expense, 
Not  needed  to  secure  the  holy  plant. 
To  root  it  out,  and  wither  it  from  earth, 
Hell  strove  with  all  its  strength,  and  blew  with  all 
Its  blasts  !  and  Sin,  with  cold,  consumptive  breath. 
Involved  it  still  in  clouds  of  mortal  damp. 
Yet  did  it  grow,  thus  kept,  protected  thus ; 
And  bear  the  only  fruit  of  true  delight ; 
The  only  fruit  worth  plucking  under  heaven. 

But  few,  alas  !  the  holy  plant  could  see, 
For  heavy  mists  that  Sin  around  it  threw 
Perpetually ;  and  few  the  sacrifice 
Would  make,  by  which  alone  its  clusters  stooped, 
.And  came  within  the  reach  of  mortal  man. 
For  this,  of  him  who  would  approach  and  eat, 
Was  rigorously  exacted  to  the  full : 
To  tread  and  bruise  beneath  the  foot  the  world 
Entire  ;  its  prides,  ambitions,  hopes,  desires ; 
Its  gold  and  all  its  'broidered  equipage ; 
To  loose  its  loves  and  friendships  from  the  heart, 
And  cast  them  off ;  to  shut  the  ear  against 
Its  praise,  and  all  its  flatteries  abhor ; 
And,  having  thus  behind  him  thrown  what  seemed 
So  good  and  fair,  then  must  he  lowly  kneel, 


BOOB:  in. 


And  with  sincerity,  in  which  the  Eye 

That  slumbers  not,  nor  sleeps,  could  see  no  lack, 

This  prayer  pray:  "  Lord,  God  !  thy  will  be  done* 

Thy  holy  will,  howe'er  it  cross  my  own." 

Hard  labor  this  for  flesh  and  blood  !  too  hard 

For  most  it  seemed.     So,  turning,  they  the  tree 

Derided  as  mere  bramble,  that  could  bear 

No  fruit  of  special  taste  ;  and  so  set  out 

Upon  ten  thousand  different  routes  to  seek 

What  they  had  left  behind,  to  seek  what  they 

Had  lost.     For  still  as  something  once  possessed 

And  lost,  true  happiness  appeared.     All  thought 

They  once  were  happy ;  and  even  while  they  smoked 

And  panted  in  the  chase,  believed  themselves 

More  miserable  to-day  than  yesterday, 

To-morrow  than  to-day.     When  youth  complained, 

The  ancient  sinner  shook  his  hoary  head, 

As  if  he  meant  to  say,  Stop  till  you  come 

My  length,  and  then  you  may  have  cause  to  sigh. 

At  twenty,  cried  the  boy,  who  now  had  seen 

Some  blemish  in  his  joys,  How  happily 

Plays  yonder  child  that  busks  the  mimic  babe, 

And  gathers  gentle  flowers,  and  never  sighs  ! 

At  forty,  in  the  fervor  of  pursuit, 

Far  on  in  disappointment's  dreary  vale, 

The  grave  and  sage-like  man  looked  back  upon 

The  stripling  youth  of  plump  unseared  hope, 

Who  galloped  gay  and  briskly  up  behind, 

And,  moaning,  wished  himself  eighteen  again. 

And  he  of  threescore  years  and  ten,  in  whose 

Chilled  eye,  fatigued  with  gaping  after  hope, 

Earth's,  freshest  verdure  seemed  but  blasted  leaves, 

Praised  childhood,  youth,  and  manhood ;     and  de« 

nounced 

Old  age  alone  as  barren  of  all  joy. 
D3cisive  proof  that  men  had  left  lehind 
18* 


£10  THE   COt/RSE   OF   TMB 

The  happiness  they  sought,  and  taken  a  most 
Erroneous  path  ;  since  every  step  they  took 
Was  deeper  mire.     Yet  did  they  onward  run, 
Pursuing  Hope  that  danced  before  them  still, 
And  beckoned  them  to  proceed ;  and  with  their  hands, 
That  shook  and  trembled  piteously  with  age, 
Grasped  at  the  lying  Shade,  even  till  the  earth 
Beneath  them  broke,  and  wrapped  them  in  the  grave, 

Sometimes  indeed,  when  Wisdom  in  their  ear 
Whispered,  and.  with  its  disenchanting  wand, 
Effectually  touched  the  sorcery  of  their  eyes, 
Directly  pointing  to  the  holy  tree, 
Where  grew  the  food  they  sought,  they  turned,  sur 
prised, 

That  they  had  missed  so  long  what  now  they  found, 
As  one  upon  whose  mind  some  new  and  rare 
Idea  glances,  and  retires  as  quick, 
Ere  memory  has  time  to  write  it  down ; 
Stung  with  the  loss,  into  a  thoughtful  cast 
He  throws  his  face,  and  rubs  his  vexed  brow ; 
Searches  each  nook  and  corner  of  his  soul 
With  frequent  care  ;  reflects,  and  re-reflects, 
And  tries  to  touch  relations  that  may  start 
The  fugitive  again ;  and  oft  is  foiled  ; 
Till  something  like  a  seeming  chance,  or  flight 
Of  random  fancy,  when  expected  least, 
Calls  back  the  wandered  thought,  long  sought  in  vain ; 
Then  does  uncommon  joy  till  all  his  mind ; 
And  still  he  wonders,  as  he  holds  it  fast, 
What  lay  so  near  he  could  not  sooner  find : 
So  did  the  man  rejoice,  when  from  his  eye 
The  film  of  fqlly  fell,  and  what  he,  day 
And  night,  and  far  and  near,  had  idly  searched, 
Sprung  up  before  him  suddenly  displayed  ; 
So  wondered  why  he  missed  tho  tree  so  long. 


BOOK  in.  211 

But,  few  returned  from  Folly's  giddy  chase, 
Few  heard  the  voice  of  Wisdom,  or  obeyed. 
Keen  was  the  search,  and  various  and  wide, 
Without,  within,  along  the  flowery  vale, 
And  up  the  rugged  cliif,  anc.  on  the  top 
Of  mountains  high,  and  on  the  ocean  wave. 
Keen  was  the  search,  and  various,  and  wide, 
And  ever  and  anon  a  shout  was  heard  : 
"Ho!  here's  the  tree  of  life!  come,  eat, and  live! " 
And  round  the  new  discoverer  quick  they  nocked 
In  multitudes,  and  plucked,  and  with  great  haste 
Devoured ;  and  sometimes  in  the  lips  'twas  sweet, 
And  promised  well ;  but  in  the  belly  gall. 
Yet  after  him  that  cried  again,  "  Ho  !  here's 
The  tree  of  life!"  again  they  ran,  and  pulled, 
And  chewed  again,  and  found  it  bitter  still. 
From  disappointment  on  to  disappointment, 
Year  after  year,  age  after  age,  pursued, 
The  child,  the  youth,  the  hoary-headed  man, 
Alike  pursued,  and  ne'er  grew  wise.     For  it 
Was  folly's  most  peculiar  attribute, 
And  native  act,  to  make  experience  void. 


But  hastily,  as  pleasures  tasted,  turned 
To  loathing  and  disgust,  they  needed  not 
Even  such  experiment  to  prove  them  vain. 
In  hope  or  in  possession,  Fear,  alike, 
Boding  disaster,  stood.     Over  the  flower 
Of  fairest  sort,  that  bloomed  beneath  the  sun, 
Protected  most,  and  sheltered  from  the  storm, 
The  Spectre,  like  a  dark  and  thunderous  cloud, 
Hung  dismally,  and  threatened,  before  the  hand 
Of  him  that  wished  could  pull  it,  to  descend, 
And  o'er  the  desert  drive  its  withered  leaves  ; 
Or,  being  pulled,  to  blast  it  unenjoyed. 


212  THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 

While  yet  he  gazed  upon  its  loveliness, 
And  just  began  to  drink  its  fragrance  up. 

Gold  many  hunted,  sweat  and  bled  for  gold : 
Waked  all  the  night,  and  labored  all  the  day* 
And  what  was  this  allurement,  dost  thou  ask  ? 
A  dust  dug  from  the  bowels  of  the  earth, 
Which,  being  cast  into  the  fire,  came  out 
A  shining  thing  that  fools  admired,  and  called 
A  god  ;  and  in  devout  and  humble  plight 
Before  it  kneeled,  the  greater  to  the  less  ; 
And  on  its  altar  sacrificed  ease,  peace, 
Truth,  faith,  integrity ;  good  conscience,  friends, 
Love,  charity,  benevolence,  and  all 
The  sweet  and  tender  sympathies  of  life ; 
And,  to  complete  the  horrid  murderous  rite, 
And  signalize  their  folly,  offered  up 
Their  souls  and  an  eternity  of  bliss, 
To  gain  them — what  ? — an  hour  of  dreaming  joy, 
A  feverish  hour,  that  hasted  to  be  done, 
And  ended  in  the  bitterness  of  wo. 

Most,  for  the  luxuries  it  bought,  the  pomp, 
The  praise,  the  glitter,  fashion,  and  renown, 
This  yellow  phantom  followed  and  adored. 
But  there  was  one  in  folly  farther  gone, 
With  eye  awry,  incurable,  and  wild, 
The  laughing-stock  of  devils  and  of  men, 
And  by  his  guardian  angel  quite  given  up, — 
The  miser,  who  with  dust  inanimate 
Held  wedded  intercourse.     Ill  guided  wretch  ! 
Thou  mightst  have  seen  him  at  the  midnight  hour, 
When  good  men  slept,  and  in  light  winged  dreams 
Ascended  up  to  God,— in  wasteful  hall, 
With  vigilance  and  fasting  worn  to  skin 
And  bone,  and  wrapped  in  most  debasing  rags, — 


BOOK.  m.  213 

Diou  mightst  have  seen  him  bending  o'er  his  heaps 

And  holding  strange  communion  with  his  gold ; 

And,  as  his  thievish  fancy  seemed  to  hear 

The  night-man's  foot  approach,  starting  alarmed, 

And  in  his  old,  decrepit,  withered  hand, 

That  palsy  shook,  grasping  the  yellow  earth 

To  make  it  sure.     Of  all  God  made  upright, 

And  in  their  nostrils  breathed  a  living  soul, 

Most  fallen,  most  prone,  most  earthy,  most  debased ; 

Of  all  that  sold  Eternity  for  Time, 

None  bargained  on  so  easy  terms  with  Death. 

Illustrious  fool !  nay,  most  inhuman  wretch  ! 

He  sat  among  his  bags,  and,  with  a  look 

Which  hell  might  be  ashamed  of,  drove  the  poor 

Away  unalmsed,  and  midst  abundance  died, 

Sorest  of  evils  !  died  of  utter  want. 

Before  this  Shadow,  in  the  vales  of  earth, 
Fools  saw  another  glide,  which  seemed  of  more 
Intrinsic  worth.     Pleasure  her  name  ;  good  name, 
Though  ill  applied.     A  thousand  forms  she  took, 
A  thousand  garbs  she  wore  ;  in  every  age 
And  elime,  changing,  as  in  her  votaries  changed 
Desire ;  but,  inwardly,  the  same  in  all. 
Her  most  essential  lineaments  we  trace ; 
Her  general  features  everywhere  alike. 

Of  comely  form  she  was,  and  fair  of  face : 
And  underneath  her  eyelids  Swt  a  kind 
Of  witching  sorcery  that  nearer  drew 
Whoever,  with  unguarded  look,  beheld  :k 
A  dress  of  gaudy  hue  loosely  attired 
Her  loveliness  ;  her  air  and  manner  frank, 
And  seeming  free  of  all  disguise  ;  her  song 
Enchanting ;  and  her  words,  which  sweetly  dropped. 
As  honey  from  the  comb,  most  large  of  promise, 


214  THE   COURSE  OF  TIME. 

Still  prophesying  days-  of  new  delight, 
And  rapturous  nights  of  undecaying  joy ; 
And  in  her  hand,  where'er  she  went,  she  held 
A  radiant  cup  that  seemed  of  nectar  full ; 
And  by  her  side,  danced  fair,  delusive  Hope. 
The  fool  pursued,  enamored  ;  and  the  wise, 
Experienced  man,  who  reasoned  much  and  thought, 
Was  sometimes  seen  laying  his  wisdom  down, 
And  vying  with  the  stripling  in  the  chase. 

Nor  wonder  thou,  for  she  was  really  fair, 
Decked  to  the  very  taste  of  flesh  and  blood, 
And  many  thought  her  sound  within,  and  gay 
And  healthy  at  the  heart :  but  thought  amiss. 
For  she  was  full  of  all  disease  :  her  bones 
Were  rotten ;  Consumption  licked  her  blood,  and  drams 
Her  marrow  up  ;  her  breath  smelled  mortally ; 
And  in  her  bowels  plague  and  fever  lurked ; 
And  in  her  very  heart,  and  reins,  and  life, 
Corruption's  worm  gnawed  greedily  unseen. 

Many  her  haunts.    Thou  mightst  have  seen  her  noAH 
With  Indolence,  lolling  on  the  mid-day  couch, 
And  whispering  drowsy  words  ;  and  now  at  dawn, 
Loudly  and  rough,  joining  the  sylvan  horn ; 
Or  sauntering  in  the  park,  and  to  the  tale 
Of  slander  giving  ear  ;  or  sitting  fierce, 
Rude,  blasphemous,  malicious,  raving,  mad, 
Where  fortune  to  the  fickle  die  was  bound. 

But  chief  she  loved  the  scene  of  deep  debauch, 
Where  revelry,  and  dance,  and  frantic  song, 
Disturbed  the  sleep  of  honest  men ;  and  where 
The  drunkard  sat,  she  entered  in,  well  pleased, 
With  eye  brimful  of  wanton  mirthfulness, 
And  urged  him  still  to  fill  another  cup. 


BOOK  in.  215 

And  at  the  shadowy  twilight,  in  the  dark 
And  gloomy  nignt,  I  looked,  and  saw  her  come 
Abroad,  arrayed  in  harlot's  soft  attire  ; 
And  walk  without  in  every  street,  and  lie 
In  wait  at  every  corner,  full  of  guile  : 
And  as  the  unwary  youth  of  simple  heart, 
And  void  of  understanding,  passed,  she  caught 
And  kissed  him,  and  with  lips  of  lying  said, 
I  have  peace-offerings  with  me ;  I  have  paid 
My  vows  this  day ;  and  therefore  came  I  forth 
To  meet  thee,  and  to  seek  thee  diligently, 
To  seek  thy  face,  and  I  have  found  thee  here. 
My  bed  is  decked  with  robes  of  tapestry, 
With  carved  work  and  sheets  of  linen  fine ; 
Perfumed  witlj  aloes,  myrrh,  and  cinnamon. 
Sweet  are  stolen  waters  !  pleasant  is  the  bread 
In  secret  eaten  !  the  goodman  is  from  home. 
Come,  let  us  take  our  nil  of  love  till  morn 
Awake  ;  let  us  delight  ourselves  with  loves. 
With  much  fair  speech,  she  caused  the  youth  to  yield 
And  forced  him  with  the  flattering  of  her  tongue. 
I  looked,  and  saw  him  follow  to  her  house, 
As  goes  the  ox  to  slaughter ;  as  the  fool 
To  the  correction  of  the  stocks  ;  or  bird 
That  hastes  into  the  subtle  fowler's  snare, 
And  knows  not,  simple  thing,  'tis  for  its  life. 
I  saw  him  enter  in,  and  heard  the  door 
Behind  them  shut ;  and  in  the  dark,  still  night, 
When  God's  unsleeping  eye  alone  can  see, 
He  went  to  her  adulterous  bed.     At  morn 
I  looked,  and  saw  him  not  among  the  youths. 
I  heard  his  father  mourn,  his  mother  weep, 
For  none  returned  that  went  with  her.    The  dead 
Were  in  her  house,  her  guests  in  depths  of  hell. 
She  wove  the  winding-sheet  of  souls,  and  laid 
Them  in  the  urn  of  everlasting  death. 


216  THE   COURSE   OF  TIME. 

Such  was  the  Shadow  fools  pursued  on  earth, 
Under  the  name  of  Pleasure ;  fair  outside, 
Within  corrupted,  and  corrupting  still. 
Iluined  and  ruinous,  her  sure  reward, 
Her  total  recompense,  was  still,  as  he, 
The  bard,  recorder  of  Earth's  Seasons,  sung, 
"  Vexation,  disappointment,  and  remorse." 
Yet  at  her  door  the  young  and  old,  and  some 
Who  held  high  character  among  the  wise, 
Together  stood,  and  strove  among  themselves, 
Who  first  should  enter,  and  be  ruined  first. 

Strange  competition  of  immortal  souls  I 
To  sweat  for  death  !  to  strive  for  misery  ! 
But  think  not  Pleasure  told  her  end  was  death. 
Even  human  folly  then  had  paused  at  least, 
And  given  some  signs  of  hesitation  ;  nor 
Arrived  so  hot,  and  out  of  breath,  at  wo. 
Though  contradicted  every  day  by  facts 
That  sophistry  itself  would  stumble  o'er, 
And  to  the  very  teeth  a  liar  proved, 
Ten  thousand  times,  as  if  unconscious  still 
Of  inward  blame,  she  stood  and  waved  her  hand, 
And  pointed  to  her  bower,  and  said  to  all 
"Who  passed,  Take  yonder  flowery  path,  my  steps 
Attend  ;  I  lead  the  smoothest  way  to  heaven ; 
This  world  receive  as  surety  for  the  next : 
And  many  simple  men,  most  simple,  though 
Renowned  for  learning  much,  and  wary  skill, 
Believed,  and  turned  aside,  and  were  undone. 

Another  leaf  of  finished  Time  we  turn, 
And  read  of  fame,  terrestrial  fame  which  died. 
And  rose  not  at  the  resurection  morn  ; 
Not  that  by  virtue  earned,  the  true  renown, 
Begun  on  earth,  and  lasting  in  the  skies, 


BOOK  m.  217 

Worthy  the  lofty  wish  of  seraphim,— 

The  approbation  of  the  Eye  that  sees 

The  end  from  the  beginning,  sees  from  cause 

To  most  remote  effect.     Of  it  we  read 

In  book  of  God's  remembrance,  in  the  book 

Of  life,  from  which  the  quick  and  dead  were  judged  ; 

The  book  that  lies  upon  the  Throne,  and  tells 

Of  glorious  acts  by  saints  and  angels  done; 

The  record  of  the  holy,  just,  and  good. 

Of  all  the  phantoms  fleeting  in  the  mist 
Of  Time,  though  meagre  all,  and  ghostly  thin, 
Most  unsubstantial,  unessential  shade 
Was  earthly  Fame.     She  was  a  voice  alone, 
And  dwelt  upon  the  noisy  tongues  of  men. 
She  never  thought,  but  gabbled  ever  on, 
Applauding  most  what  least  deserved  applause. 
The  motive,  the  result,  was  naught  to  her. 
The  deed  alone,  though  dyed  in  human  gore, 
And  steeped  in  widow's  tears,  if  it  stood  out 
To  prominent  display,  she  talked  of  much, 
And  roared  around  it  with  a  thousand  tongues. 
As  changed  the  wind  her  organ,  so  she  changed 
Perpetually ;  and  whom  she  praised  to-day, 
Vexing  his  ear  with  acclamations  loud, 
To-morrow  blamed,  and  hissed  him  out  of  sight 

Such  was  her  nature,  and  her  practice  such. 
But,  O  !  her  voice  was  sweet  to  mortal  ears, 
And  touched  so  pleasantly  the  strings  of  pride 
And  vanity,  which  in  the  heart  of  man 
Were  ever  strung  harmonious  to  her  note, 
That  many  thought,  to  live  without  her  song 
Was  rather  death  than  life.    To  live  unknown, 
Unnoticed,  unrenowned  !  to  die  unpraised, 
Unepitaphed  !  to  go  down  to  the  pit, 
19 


218  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

And  moulder  into  dust  among  vile  worms. 
And  leave  no  whispering  of  a  name  on  eaj  th  ! — 
Such  thought  was  cold  about  the  heart  and  chilled 
The  blood.   Who  could  endure  it  ?  who  could  choosa 
Without  a  struggle,  to  be  swept  away 
From  all  remembrance,  and  have  part  no  more 
With  living  men  ?     Philosophy  failed  here, 
And  self- approving  pride.     Hence  it  became 
The  aim  of  most,  and  main  pursuit,  to  win. 
A  name,  to  leave  some  vestige  as  they  passed, 
That  following  ages  might  discern,  they  once 
Had  been  on  earth,  and  acted  something  there. 


Many  the  roads  they  took,  the  plans  they  tried. 
The  man  of  science  to  the  shade  retired, 
And  laid  his  head  upon  his  hand,  in  mood 
Of  awful  thoughtfulness,  and  dived,  and  dived 
Again,  deeper  and  deeper  still,  to  sound 
The  cause  remote  ;  resolved,  before  he  died, 
To  make  some  grand  discovery,  by  which 
He  should  be  known,  to  all  posterity. 


And  in  the  silent  vigils  of  the  night, 
When  uninspired  men  reposed,  the  bard, 
Ghastly  of  countenance,  and  from  his  eye 
Oft  streaming  wild  unearthly  fire,  sat  up, 
And  sent  imagination  forth,  and  searched 
The  far  and  near,  heaven,  earth,  and  gloomy  hell, 
For  fiction  new,  for  thought,  unthought  before ; 
And  when  some  curious,  rare  idea  peered 
Upon  his  mind,  he  dipped  his  hasty  pen, 
And  by  the  glimmering  lamp,  or  moonlight  beam 
That  through  his  lattice  peeped,  wrote  fondly  down, 
What  seemed  in  truth  imperishable  song. 


BOOK.    III.  219 

And  sometimes  too,  the  reverend  divine, 
In  meditation  deep  of  holy  things 
And  vanities  of  Time,  heard  Fame's  sweet  voice 
Approach  his  ear  ;  and  hung  another  flower, 
Of  earthly  sort,  about  the  sacred  truth  ; 
And  ventured  whiles  to  mix  the  bitter  text, 
With  relish  suited  to  the  sinner's  taste. 

And  oft-times  too,  the  simple  hind,  who  seemed 
Ambitionless,  arrayed  in  humble  garb, 
While  round  him,  spreading,  fed  his  harmless  flock, 
Sitting  was  seen,  by  some  wild  warbling  brook, 
Carving  his  name  upon  his  favorite  staff ; 
Or,  in  ill-favored  letters,  tracing  it 
Upon  the  aged  thorn,  or  on  the  face 
Of  some  conspicuous,  oft-frequented  stone, 
With  persevering,  wondrous  industry ; 
And  hoping  as  he  toiled  amain,  and  saw 
The  characters  take  form,  some  other  wight, 
Long  after  he  was  dead  and  in  the  grave, 
Should  loiter  there  at  noon,  and  read  his  name. 

In  purple  some,  and  some  in  rags,  stood  forth 
For  reputation.     Some  displayed  a  limb 
Well-fashioned ;  some,  of  lowlier  mind,  a  cane 
Of  curious  workmanship  and  marvellous  twist. 
In  strength  some  sought  it,  and  in  beauty  more. 
Long,  long,  the  fair  one  labored  at  the  glass, 
And,  being  tired,  called  in  auxiliar  skill, 
To  have  her  sails,  before  she  went  abroad, 
Full  spread  and  nicely  set,  to  catch  the  gale 
Of  praise ;  and  much  she  caught,  and  much  deserved, 
When  outward  loveliness  was  index  fair 
Of  purity  within  :  but  oft,  alas  ! 
The  bloom  was  on  the  skin  alone  ;  and  whet 
She  saw,  sad  fight !  the  roses  on  her  cheek 


220  THE   COURSE   OF  TIME. 

Wither,  and  heard  the  voice  of  Fame  retire 

And  die  away,  she  heaved  most  piteous  sighs, 

Ajid  wept  most  lamentable  tears  ;  and  whiles, 

In  wild  delirium,  made  rash  attempt, 

Unholy  mimicry  of  Nature's  work ! 

To  re-create,  with  frail  and  mortal  things, 

Her  withered  face.     Attempt  how  fond  and  vain  \ 

Her  frame  itself  soon  mouldered  down  to  dust ; 

Ajid,  in  the  land  of  deep  forgetfulness, 

Her  beauty  and  her  name  were  laid  beside 

Eternal  silence  and  the  loathsome  worm  ; 

Into  whose  darkness  flattery  ventured  not ; 

Where  none  had  ears  to  hear  the  voice  of  Fame. 

Many  the  roads  they  took,  the  plans  they  tried, 
And  awful  oft  the  wickedness  they  wrought. 
To  be  observed,  some  scrambled  up  to  thrones, 
And  sat  in  vestures  dripping  wet  with  gore. 
The  warrior  dipped  his  sword  in  blood,  and  wrote 
His  name  on  lands  and  cities  desolate. 
The  rich  bought  fields,  and  houses  built,  and  raised 
The  monumental  piles  up  to  the  clouds, 
And  called  them  by  their  names :  and,  strange  to  tell  f 
Rather  than  be  unknown,  and  pass  away 
Obscurely  to  the  grave,  some,  small  of  soul, 
That  else  had  perished  unobserved,  acquired 
Considerable  renown  by  oaths  profane  ; 
By  jesting  boldly  with  all  sacred  things  ; 
And  uttering  fearlessly  whate'er  occurred ; 
Wild,  blasphemous,  perditionable  thoughts, 
That  Satan  in  them  moved ;  by  wiser  men 
Suppressed,  and  quickly  banished  from  the  mind- 
Many  the  roads  they  took,  the  plans  they  tried. 
But  all  in  vain.    Who  grasped  at  earthly  fame, 
Grasped  wind ;  nay  worse,  a  serpent  grasped,  that  thro' 


BOOK.  m.  221 

His  hand  slid  smoothly,  and  was  gone ;  but  left 
A  sting  behind  which  wrought  him  endless  pain. 
For  oft  her  voice  was  old  Abaddon's  lure, 
By  which  he  charmed  the  foolish  soul  to  death. 

So  happiness  was  sought  in  pleasure,  gold, 
Renown,  by  many  sought.     But  should  I  sing 
Of  all  the  trifling  race,  my  time,  thy  faith 
Would  fail,  of  things  erectly  organized, 
And  having  rational  articulate  voice, 
And  claiming  outward  brotherhood  with  man, 
Of  him  that  labored  sorely,  in  his  sweat 
Smoking  afar,  then  hurried  to  the  wine, 
Deliberately  resolving  to  be  mad  ; 
Of  him  who  taught  the  ravenous  bird  to  fly 
This  way  or  that,  thereby  supremely  blest ; 
Or  rode  in  fury  with  the  howling  pack, 
Affronting  much  the  noble  animal, 
He  spurred  into  such  company ;  of  him 
Who  down  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth 
Descended  deeply,  to  bring  up  the  Avreck 
Of  some  old  earthen  ware,  which  having  stowed, 
With  every  proper  care,  he  home  returned 
O'er  many  a  sea,  and  many  a  league  of  land, 
Triumphantly  to  show  the  marvellous  prize ; 
And  him  that  vexed  his  brain  and  theories  built 
Of  gossamer  upon  the  brittle  winds, 
Perplexed  exceedingly  why  shells  were  found 
Upon  the  mountain  tops,  but  wondering  not 
Why  shells  were  found  at  all,  more  wondrous  still  I 
Of  him  who  strange  enjoyment  took  in  tales 
Of  fairy  folk,  and  sleepless  ghosts,  and  sounds 
Unearthly,  whispering  in  the  ea-  of  night 
Disastrous  things  ;  and  him  who  still  foretold 
Calamity  which  never  came,  and  lived 
In  terror  all  his  days  of  comets  rude, 
19* 


222  THE   COURSE    OP   TIME. 

That  should  unmannerly  and  lawless  drive 
Athwart  the  path  of  earth,  and  burn  mankind 
As  if  the  appointed  hour  of  doom,  by  God 
Appointed,  ere  its  time  should  come  !  as  if 
Too  small  the  number  of  substantial  ilia, 
And  real  fears,  to  vex  the  sons  of  men. 
These,  had  they  not  possessed  immortal  souls, 
And  been  accountable,  might  have  been  passed 
"With  laughter,  and  forgot ;  but,  as  it  was, 
And  is,  their  folly  asks  a  serious  tear. 

Keen  was  the  search,  and  various,  and  wide, 
For  happiness.     Take  one  example  more, 
So  strange,  that  common  fools  looked  on  amazed ; 
And  wise  and  sober  men  together  drew, 
A.nd  trembling  stood ;  and  angels  in  the  heavens 
Grew  pale,  and  talked  of  vengeance  as  at  hand  ;  — 
The  sceptic's  route,  the  unbeliever's,  who, 
Despising  reason,  revelation,  God, 
And  kicking  'gainst  the  pricks  of  conscience,  rush&d 
Deliriously  upon  the  bossy  shield 
Of  the  Omnipotent ;  and  in  his  heart 
Purposed  to  deify  the  idol  Chance  ; 
And  labored  hard, — oh,  labor  worse  than  naught ! — 
And  toiled  with  dark  and  crooked  reasoning, 
To  make  the  fair  and  lovely  earth,  which  dwelt 
In  sight  of  Heaven,  a  cold  and  fatherless, 
Forsaken  thing,  that  wandered  on,  forlorn, 
Undestined,  uncompassioned,  unupheld ; 
A.  vapor  eddying  in  the  whirl  of  chance, 
And  soon  to  vanish  everlastingly. 
He  travailed  sorely,  and  made  many  a  tack, 
His  sails  oft  shifting,  to  arrive, — dread  thought.— 
Arrive  at  utter  nothingness  ;  and  have 
Being  no  more,  no  feeling,  memory, 
No  lingering  consciousness  that  e'er  he  was. 


BOOK.  m. 


223 


Guilt's  midnight  wish  !  last,  most  abhorred  thought. 

Most  desperate  effort  of  extremest  sin  ! 

Others,  pre-occupied,  ne'er  saw  true  Hope: 

He,  seeing,  aimed  to  stab  her  to  the  heart, 

And  with  infernal  chymistry  to  wring 

The  last  sweet  drop  from  Sorrow's  cup  of  gall ; 

Co  quench  the  only  ray  that  cheered  the  earth, 

And  leave  mankind  in  night  which  had  no  star. 

Others  the  stream  of  Pleasure  troubled  ;  he 

Toiled  much  to  dry  her  very  fountain  head. 

Unpardonable  man  !  sold  under  sin ! 

He  was  the  devil's  pioneer,  who  cut 

The  fences  down  of  Virtue,  sapped  her  walls, 

And  opened  a  smooth  and  easy  way  to  death. 

Traitor  to  all  existence,  to  all  life  ! 

Soul-suicide  !  determined  foe  of  being, 

'jitended  murderer  of  God,  Most  High  ! 

Strange  road,  most  strange  !  to  seek  for  happiness  ! 

Hell's  mad  houses  are  full  of  such,  too  fierce, 

'loo  furiously  insane,  and  desperate, 

To  rage  unbound  'mong  evil  spirits  damned. 

Fertile  was  earth  in  many  things,  not  least 
In  fools,  who  mercy  both  and  judgment  scorned, 
.Scorned  love,  experience  scorned,  and  onward  rushed 
To  swift  destruction,  giving  all  reproof, 
And  all  instructions,  to  the  winds  ;  and  much 
Of  both  they  had,  and  much  despised  of  both. 

"Wisdom  took  up  her  harp,  and  stood  in  place 
Of  frequent  concourse,  stood  in  every  gate, 
Jiy  every  way,  aud  walked  in  every  street ; 
And,  lifting  up  her  voice,  proclaimed  :  "  Be  wise, 
Ye  fools !  be  of  an  understanding  heart ; 
Forsake  the  wicked,  come  not  near  his  house, 
Pass  by,  make  haste,  depart  and  turn  away. 


224  THE    COURSE   OF   TIME. 

Me  follow,  me,  whose  ways  are  pleasantness, 

Whose  paths  are  peace,  whose  end  is  perfect  joy." 

The  Seasons  came  and  went,  and  went  and  came, 

To  teach  men  gratitude  ;  and  as  they  passed, 

Gave  warning  of  the  lapse  of  Time,  that  else 

Had  stolen  unheeded  by.     The  gentle  Flowers 

Retired,  and,  stooping  o'er  the  wilderness, 

Talked  of  humility,  and  peace,  and  love. 

The  Dews  came  down  unseen  at  evening-tide, 

And  silently  their  bounties  shed,  to  teach 

Mankind  unostentatious  charity. 

With  arm  in  arm  the  forest  rose  on  high, 

And  lesson  gave  of  brotherly  regard. 

And,  on  the  rugged  mountain-brow  exposed, 

Bearing  the  blast  alone,  the  ancient  oak 

Stood,  lifting  high  his  mighty  arm,  and  still 

To  courage  in  distress  exhorted  loud. 

The  flocks,  the  herds,  the  birds,  the  streams,  the  breeze, 

Attuned  the  heart  to  melody  and  love. 

Mercy  stood  in  the  cloud,  with  eye  that  wept 

Essential  love  ;  and,  from  her  glorious  bow, 

Bending  to  kiss  the  earth  in  token  of  peace, 

With  her  own  lips,  her  gracious  lips,  which  Goa 

Of  sweetest  accent  made,  she  whispered  still, 

She  whispered  to  Revenge,  Forgive,  forgive. 

The  Sun,  rejoicing  round  the  earth,  announced 

Daily  the  wisdom,  power,  and  love  of  God. 

The  Moon  awoke,  and  from  her  maiden  face, 

Shedding  her  cloudy  locks,  looked  meekly  forth, 

And  with  her  virgin  Stars  walked  in  the  heavens, 

Walked  nightly  there,  conversing  as  she  walked, 

Of  purity,  and  holiness,  and  God. 

In  dreams  and  visions,  sleep  instructed  much. 

Day  uttered  speech  to  day,  and  night  to  night 

Taught  knowledge.    Silence  had  a  tongue  ;  the  grave. 

The  darkness,  and  the  lonely  waste,  had  each. 


BOOS:  in. 


225 


A  tongue,  that  ever  said,  Man  !  think  of  God  ! 

Think  of  thyself !  think  of  eternity  ! 

Fear  God,  the  thunders  said  ;  Fear  God,  the  waves. 

Year  God,  the  lightning  of  the  storm  replied. 

Fear  God,  deep  loudly  answered  back  to  deep  • 

And,  in  the  temples  of  the  Holy  One, 

Messiah's  messengers,  the  faithful  few, 

Faithful  'mong  many  false,  the  Bible  opened, 

And  cried,  Repent !  repent,  ye  sons  of  men  ! 

Believe,  be  saved  ;  and  reasoned  awfully 

Of  temperance,  righteousness,  and  judgment  soon 

To  come,  of  ever-during  life  and  death  : 

And  chosen  bards  from  age  to  age  o  <voke 

The  sacred  lyre,  and  full  on  Folly's  ear, 

Numbers  of  righteous  indignation  poured : 

And  God,  omnipotent,  when  mercy  failed, 

Made  bare  his  holy  arm,  and  with  the  stroke 

Of  vengeance  smote  ;  the  fountains  of  the  deep 

Broke  up,  heaven's  windows  opened,  and  sent  on  men. 

A  flood  of  wrath,  sent  plague  and  famine  forth ; 

With  earthquake   rocked  the  world  beneath,  with 

storms 

Above  laid  cities  waste,  and  turned  fat  lands 
To  barrenness,  and  with  the  sword  of  war 
In  fury  marched,  and  gave  them  blood  to  drink. 
Angels  remonstrated,  Mercy  beseeched, 
Heaven  smiled  and  frowned,  Hell  groaned,  Time  4ed, 

Death  shook 

His  dart,  and  threatened  to  make  repentance  vain, — 
Incredible  assertion  !  men  rushed  on 
Determinedly  to  ruin  ;  shut  their  ears, 
Their  eyes,  to  all  advice,  to  all  reproof ; 
O'er  mercy  and  o'er  judgment,  downward  rushed 
To  misery  ;  and,— most  incredible 
Of  all ! — to  misery  rushed,  along  the  way 
Oi'  disappointment  and  remorse,  where  still, 


226  THE    COURSE   OF   TIME. 

At  every  step,  adders,  in  pleasure's  form, 
Stung  mortally ;  and  Joys, — whose  bloomy  cheeks 
Seemed  glowing  high  with  immortality. 
Whose  bosoms  prophesied  superfluous  bliss, — 
While  in  the  arms  received,  and  locked  in  close 
And  riotous  embrace,  turned  pale,  and  cold, 
And  died,  and  smelled  of  putrefaction  rank  ; 
Turned,  in  the  very  moment  of  delight, 
A  loathsome,  heavy  corpse,  that  with  the  clear 
And  hollow  eyes  of  death,  stared  horribly. 

All  tribes,  all  generations  of  the  earth, 
Thus  wantonly  to  ruin  drove  alike. 
We  heard  indeed  of  golden  and  silver  days, 
And  of  primeval  innocence  unstained : 
A  pagan  tale !  but  by  baptized  bards, 
Philosophers,  and  statesmen,  who  were  still 
Held  wise  and  cunning  men,  talked  of  so  much, 
That  most  believed  it  so,  and  asked  not  why. 

The  pair,  the  family  first  made,  were  ill ; 
And  for  their  great  peculiar  sin,  incurred 
The  Curse,  and  left  it  due  to  all  their  race ; 
And  bold  example  gave  of  every  crime. 
Hate,  murder,  unbelief,  reproach,  revenge. 
A  time,  'tis  true,  there  came,  of  which  thou  soon 
Shalt  hear,  the  Sabbath  Day,  the  Jubilee 
Of  earth,  when  righteoxisness  and  peace  prevailed, 
This  time  except,  who  writes  the  history 
Of  men,  and  writes  it  true,  must  write  tKem  bad ; 
Who  reads,  must  read  of  violence  and  bkod. 
The  man,  who  could  the  story  of  one  daj 
Peruse,  the  wrongs,  oppressions,  cruelties, 
Deceits,  and  perjuries,  and  vanities, 
Rewarded  worthlessness,  rejected  worth, 
Assassinations,  robberies,  thefts,  and  wars. 


BOOK   in. 


227 


Disastrous  accidents,  life  thrown  away, 
Divinity  insulted,  Heaven  despised, 
Religion  scorned, — and  not  been  sick  at  night, 
And  sad, — had  gathered  greater  store  of  mirth, 
Than  ever  wise  man  in  the  world  could  find. 

One  cause  of  folly,  one  especial  cause, 
Was  this  :  Few  knew  what  wisdom  was,  though  well 
Denned  in  God's  own  words,  and  printed  large, 
On  heaven  and  earth  in  characters  of  light, 
And  sounded  in  the  ear  by  every  wind. 

Wisdom  is  humble,  said  the  voice  of  God. 
Tis  proud,  the  world  replied.     Wisdom,  said  God, 
Forgives,  forbears,  and  suffers,  not  for  fear 
Of  man,  but  God.     Wisdom  revenges,  said 
The  world  ;  is  quick  and  deadly  of  resentment, 
Thrusts  at  the  very  shadow  of  affront, 
And  hastes,  by  death,  to  wipe  its  honor  clean. 
Wisdom,  said  God,  loves  enemies,  entreats, 
Solicits,  begs  for  peace.     Wisdom,  replied 
The  world,  hates  enemies,  will  not  ask  peace, 
Conditions  spurns,  and  triumphs  in  their  fall. 
Wisdom  mistrusts  itself,  and  leans  on  Heaven, 
Said  God.     It  trusts  and  leans  upon  itself, 
The  world  replied.     Wisdom  retires,  said  God, 
And  counts  it  bravery  to  bear  reproach, 
And  shame,  and  lowly  poverty,  upright ; 
And  weeps  with  all  who  have  just  cause  to  weep. 
Wisdom,  replied  the  world,  struts  forth  to  gaze, 
Treads  the  broad  stage  of  life  with  clamorous  foot, 
Attracts  all  praises,  counts  it  bravery 
Alone  to  wield  the  sword,  and  rush  on  death  ; 
.And  never  weeps  but  for  his  own  disgrace. 
Wisdom,  said  God,  is  highest,  when  it  stoops 
lowest  before  the  Holy  Throne ;  throws  down 


228  THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 

Its  crown,  abased  ;  forgets  itself,  admires, 
And  breathes  adoring  praise.     There  Wisdom  stoops, 
Indeed,  the  world  replied,  there  stoops,  because 
It  must,  but  stoops  with  dignity  ;  and  thinks 
And  meditates  the  while  of  inward  worth. 

Thus  did  Almighty  God,  and  thus  the  world, 
Wisdom  define  :  and  most  the  world  believed, 
And  boldly  called  the  truth  of  God  a  lie. 
Hence,  he  that  to  the  worldly  wisdom  shaped 
His  character,  became  the  favorite 
Of  men,  was  honorable  termed,  a  man 
Of  spirit,  noble,  glorious,  lofty  soul  ! 
And  as  he  crossed  the  earth  in  chase  of  dreams, 
Received  prodigious  shouts  of  warm  applause. 
Hence,  who  to  godly  wisdom  framed  his  life 
Was  counted  mean,  and  spiritless,  and  vile  ; 
And  as  he  walked  obscurely  in  the  path 
Which  led  to  heaven,  fools  hissed  with  serpent  tongue. 
And  poured  contempt  upon  his  holy  head, 
And  poured  contempt  on  all  who  praised  his  name. 

But  false  as  this  account  of  wisdom  was, 
The  world's  I  mean,  it  was  its  best,  the  creed 
Of  sober,  grave,  and  philosophic  men, 
With  much  research  and  cogitation  framed, 
Of  men  who  with  the  vulgar  scorned  to  sit. 

The  popular  belief  seemed  rather  worse, 
When  heard  replying  to  the  voice  of  truth. 

The  wise  man,  said  the  Bible,  walks  with  God ; 
Surveys,  far  on,  the  endless  line  of  life ; 
Values  his  soul,  thinks  of  eternity, 
Both  worlds  considers,  and  provides  for  both ; 
With  Reason's  eye  his  passions  guards ;  abstains 


BOOK  ni.  22t» 

From  evil ;  lives  on  hope,  on  hope,  the  fruit 
Of  faith  ;  looks  upward,  purifies  his  soul, 
Expands  his  wings,  and  mounts  into  the  sky  ; 
Passes  the  sun,  and  gains  his  father's  house, 
And  drinks  with  angels  from  the  fount  of  bliss. 

The  multitude  aloud  replied, — replied 
By  practice,  for  they  were  not  bookish  men 
Nor  apt  to  form  their  principles  in  words, — 
The  wise  man,  first  of  all,  eradicates, 
As  much  as  possible,  from  out  his  mind, 
All  thought  of  death,  God,  and  eternity ; 
Admires  the  world,  and  thinks  of  Time  alone  ; 
Avoids  the  Bible,  all  reproof  avoids  ; 
Rocks  Conscience,  if  he  can,  asleep  ;  puts  out 
The  eye  of  Reason,  prisons,  tortures,  binds, 
And  makes  her  thus,  by  violence  and  force, 
Give  wicked  evidence  against  herself ; 
Lets  passion  loose,  the  substance  leaves,  pursues 
The  shadow  vehemently,  but  ne'er  o'ertakes ; 
Puts  by  the  cup  of  holiness  and  joy  ; 
And  drinks,  carouses  deeply,  in  the  bowl 
Of  death  ;  grovels  in  dust,  pollutes,  destroys, 
His  soul ;  is  miserable  to  acquire 
More  misery ;  deceives  to  be  deceived  ; 
Strives,  labors  to  the  last,  to  shun  the  truth ; 
Strives,  labors  to  the  last,  to  damn  himself ; 
Turns  desperate,  shudders,  groans,  blasphemes,  and 

dies, 

And  sinks — where  could  he  else  ? — to  endless  woe! 
And  drinks  the  wine  of  God's  eternal  wrath. 

The  learned  thus,  and  thus  the  unlearned  world 
Wisdom  denned.     In  sound  they  disagreed  ; 
In  substance,  in  effect,  in  end,  the  same ; 
And  equally  to  God  and  truth  opposed, 
20 


230  THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 

Opposed  as  darkness  to  the  light  of  heaven. 
Yet  were  there  some,  that  seemed  well-meaning  men, 
Who  systems  planned,  expressed  in  supple  words, 
Which  praised  the  man  as  wisest,  that  in  one 
United  both  ;  pleased  God,  and  pleased  the  world ; 
And  with  the  saint,  and  with  the  sinner,  had, 
Changing  his  garb,  unseen,  a  good  report. 
And  many  thought  their  definition  best ; 
And  in  their  wisdom  grew  exceeding  wise. 

Union  abhorred !  dissimulation  vain  ! 
Could  Holiness  embrace  the  harlot  Sin  ? 
Could  life  wed  death  ?  Could  God  with  Mammon 

dwell? 

Oh,  foolish  men  !  oh,  men  for  ever  lost ! 
In  spite  of  mercy  lost,  in  spite  of  wrath  ! 
In  spite  of  Disappointment  and  Remorse 
Which  made  the  way  to  ruin,  ruinous  ! 

Hear  what  they  were  :  The  progeny  of  Sin, 
Alike,  and  oft  combined  ;  but  differing  much 
In  mode  of  giving  pain.     As  felt  the  gross, 
Material  part,  when  in  the  furnace  cast, 
So  felt  the  soul,  the  victim  of  Remorse. 
It  was  a  fire  which  on  the  verge  of  God's 
Commandments  burned,  and  on  the  vitals  fed 
Of  all  who  passed.    Who  passed,  there  met  Remorse, 
A  violent  fever  seized  his  soul ;  the  heavens 
Above,  the  earth  beneath,  seemed  glowing  brass, 
Heated  seven  times ;  he  heard  dread  voices  speak, 
And  mutter  horrid  prophecies  of  pain, 
Severer  and  severer  yet  to  come ; 
-   And  as  he  writhed  and  quivered,  scorched  within, 
The  Fury  round  his  torrid  temples  napped 
Her  fiery  wings,  and  breathed  upon  his  lips 
And  parched  tongue  the  withered  bJast  of  hell 


BOOK  m. 


231 


It  was  the  suffering  begun,  thou  sawst 
In  symbol  of  the  Worm  that  never  dies. 

The  other,  Disappointment,  rather  seemed 
Negation  of  delight.     It  was  a  thing 
Sluggish  and  torpid,  tending  towards  death. 
Its  breath  was  cold,  and  made  the  sportive  blood 
Stagnant,  and  dull,  and  heavy,  round  the  wheels 
Of  life.    The  roots  of  that  whereon  it  blew, 
Decayed,  and  with  the  genial  soil  no  more 
Held  sympathy  ;  the  leaves,  the  branches  drooped, 
And  mouldered  slowly  down  to  formless  dust ; 
Not  tossed  and  driven  by  violence  of  winds, 
But  withering  where  they  sprung,  and  rotting  there 
Long  disappointed,  disappointed  still, 
The  hopeless  man,  hopeless  in  his  main  wish, 
As  if  returning  back  to  nothing,  felt ; 
In  strange  vacuity  of  being  hung, 
And  rolled  and  rolled  his  eye  on  emptiness, 
That  seemed  to  grow  more  empty  every  hour. 

One  of  this  mood  I  do  remember  well, 
We  name  him  not,— what  now  are  earthly  names  ? 
In  humble  dwelling  born,  retired,  remote 
In  rural  quietude,  'mong  hills,  and  streams, 
And  melancholy  deserts,  where  the  Sun 
Saw,  as  he  passed,  a  shepherd  only,  here 
And  there,  watching  his  little  flock,  or  heard 
The  ploughman  talking  to  his  steers ;  his  hopco 
His  morning  hopes,  awoke  before  him,  smiliivg, 
Among  the  dews  and  holy  mountain  airs ; 
And  fancy  colored  them  with  every  hue 
Of  heavenly  loveliness.     But  soon  his  dreams 
Of  childhood  fled  away,  those  rainbow  dreams, 
So  innocent  and  fair,  that  withered  Age, 
Even  at  the  grave,  cleared  up  his  dusty  eye, 


232  THE  ccmsE  OP  TIME. 

And,  passing  all  between,  looked  fondly  back 

To  see  them  once  again,  ere  he  departed  : 

These  fled  away,  and  anxious  thought,  that  wished 

To  go,  yet  whither  knew  not  well  to  go, 

Possessed  his  soul,  and  held  it  still  awhile. 

He  listened,  and  heard  from  far  the  voice  of  fame, 

Heard  and  was  charmed  ;  and  deep  and  sudden  vow 

Of  resolution,  made  to  be  renowned  ; 

And  deeper  vowed  again  to  keep  his  vow. 

His  parents  saw,  his  parents,  whom  God  made 

Of  kindest  heart,  saw,  and  indulged  his  hope. 

The  ancient  page  he  turned,  read  much,  thought  much} 

And  with  old  bards  of  honorable  name 

Measured  his  soul  severely  ;  and  looked  up 

To  fame,  ambitious  of  no  second  place. 

Hope  grew  from  inward  faith,  and  promised  fair. 

And  out  before  him  opened  many  a  path 

Ascending,  where  the  laurel  highest  waved 

Her  branch  of  endless  green.     He  stood  admiring, 

But  stood,  admired,  not  long.     The  harp  he  seized, 

The  harp  he  loved,  loved  better  than  his  life, 

The  harp  which  uttered  deepest  notes,  and  held 

The  ear  of  thought  a  captive  to  its  song. 

He  searched  and  meditated  much,  and  whiles, 

With  rapturous  hand,  in  secret,  touched  the  lyre, 

Aiming  at  glorious  strains  ;  and  searched  again. 

For  theme  deserving  of  immortal  verse  ; 

Chose  now,  and  now  refused,  unsatisfied ; 

Pleased,  then  displeased,  and  hesitating  stilL 

Thus  stood  his  mind,  when  round  him  came  a  cloud; 
Slowly  and  heavily  it  came,  a  cloud 
Of  ills,  we  mention  not.     Enough  to  say, 
'Twas  cold,  and  dead,  impenetrable  gloom. 
He  saw  its  dark  approach,  and  saw  his  hopes. 
One  after  one,  put  out,  as  nearer  still 


BOOK.    HI.  233 

it  drew  Ms  soul ;  but  fainted  not  at  first, 
Fainted  not  soon.     He  knew  the  lot  of  man 
Was  troubled,  and  prepared  to  bear  the  worst ; 
Endure  what'er  should  come,  without  a  sigh 
Endure,  and  drink,  even  to  the  very  dregs, 
The  bitterest  cup  that  Time  could  measure  out; 
And,  having  done,  look  up,  and  ask  for  more. 

He  called  philosophy,  and  with  his  heart 
Reasoned.     He  called  religion  too,  but  called 
Reluctantly,  and  therefore  was  not  heard. 
Ashamed  to  be  o'ermatched  by  earthly  woes, 
He  sought,  and  sought,  with  eye  that  dimmed  apace, 
To  find  some  avenue  to  light,  some  place 
On  which  to  rest  a  hope  ;  but  sought  in  vain. 
Darker  and  darker  and  darker  still  the  darkness  grew 
At  length  he  sunk,  and  Disappointment  stood 
His  only  comforter,  and  mournfully 
Told  all  was  passed.     His  interest  in  life, 
In  being,  ceased  :  and  now  he  seemed  to  feel, 
And  shuddered  as  he  felt,  his  powers  of  mind 
Decaying  in  the  spring-time  of  his  day. 
The  vigorous,  weak  became  ;  the  clear,  obscure. 
Memory  gave  up  her  charge,  Decision  reeled, 
And  from  her  flight,  Fancy  returned,  returned 
Because  she  found  no  nourishment  abroad. 
The  blue  heavens  withered,  and  the  moon,  and  sun, 
And  all  the  stars,  and  the  green  earth,  and  morn 
And  evening,  withered ;  and  the  eyes,  and  smiles, 
And  faces,  of  all  men  and  women,  withered  ; 
Withered  to  him  ;  and  all  the  universe, 
Like  something  which  had  been,  appeared ;  but  now 
Was  dead  and  mouldering  fast  away.     He  tried 
No  more  to  hope,  wished  to  forget  his  vow, 
Wished  to  forget  his  harp  ;  then  ceased  to  wish. 
That  was  his  last.     Enjoyment  now  was  done. 
20* 


234 


THE   COURSE    OF   TIME. 


He  had  no  hope,  no  -wish,  and  scarce  a  fear. 
Of  being  sensible,  and  sensible 
Of  loss,  he  as  some  atom  seemed,  which  God 
Had  made  superfluously,  and  needed  not 
To  build  creation  with  ;  but  back  again 
To  nothing  threw,  and  left  it  in  the  void, 
With  everlasting  sense  that  once  it  was. 

Oh !  who  can  tell  what  days,  what  nights,  he  spent, 
Of  tideless,  waveless,  sailless,  shoreless  woe  ! 
And  who  can  tell  how  many,  glorious  once, 
To  others  and  themselves  of  promise  full, 
Conducted  to  this  pass  of  human  thought, 
This  wilderness  of  intellectual  death, 
Wasted  and  pined,  and  vanished  from  the  earth, 
Leaving  no  vestige  of  memorial  there  ! 

It  was  not  so  with  him.     When  thus  he  lay, 
Forlorn  of  heart,  withered  and  desolate, 
As  leaf  of  Autumn,  which  the  wolfish  winds, 
Selecting  from  its  falling  sisters,  chase, 
Far  from  its  native  grove,  to  lifeless  wastes, 
And  leave  it  there  alone,  to  be  forgotten 
Eternally,  God  passed  in  mercy  by, — 
His  praise  be  ever  new  ! — and  on  him  breathed, 
And  bade  him  live,  and  put  into  his  hands 
A  holy  harp,  into  his  lips  a  song, 
That  rolled  its  numbers  down  the  tide  of  Time : 
Ambitious  now  but  little,  to  be  praised 
Of  men  alone ;  ambitious  most,  to  be 
Approved  of  God,  the  Judge  of  all ;  and  have 
His  name  recorded  in  the  book  of  life. 

Such  things  were  Disappointment  and  Remorse, 
And  oft  united  both,  as  friends  severe, 
To  teach  men  wisdom  ;  but  the  fool,  untaught, 


235 


Was  foolish  still.     His  ear  he  stopped,  his  eyes 
He  shut,  and  blindly,  deafly  obstinate, 
Forced  desperately  his  way  from  wo  to  wo. 

One  place,  one  only  place,  there  was  on  earth, 
\Vhere  no  man  e'er  was  fool,  however  mad. 
"  Men  may  live  fools,  but  fools  they  cannot  die. 
Ah  !  'twas  a  truth  most  true  ;  and  sung  in  Time, 
And  to  the  sons  of  men,  by  one  well  known 
On  earth  for  lofty  verse  and  lofty  sense. 
Much  hast  thou  seen,  fair  youth,  much  heard ;  but 

thou 

Hast  never  seen  a  death  bed,  never  heard 
A  dying  groan.     Men  saw  it  often.     'Twas  sad, 
To  all  most  sorrowful  and  sad  ;  to  guilt, 
'Twas  anguish,  terror,  darkness,  without  bow. 
But,  oh  !  it  had  a  most  convincing  tongue, 
A  potent  oratory,  that  secured 
Most  mute  attention  ;  and  it  spoke  the  truth 
So  boldly,  plainly,  perfectly  distinct, 
That  none  the  meaning  could  mistake  or  doubt ; 
And  had  withal  a  disenchanting  power, 
A  most  omnipotent  and  wondrous  powei, 
"Which  in  a  moment  broke,  for  ever  broke, 
And  utterly  dissolved,  the  charms,  and  spells, 
And  cunning  sorceries  of  earth  and  hell. 
And  thus  it  sp  jke  to  him  who  ghastly  lay, 
And  struggled  for  another  breath  :  Earth's  cup 
Is  poisoned  ;  her  renown,  most  infamous  ; 
Her  gold,  seem  as  it  may,  is  really  dust ; 
Her  titles,  slanderous  names ;  her  praise,  reproach ; 
Her  strength,  an  idiot's  boast ;  her  wisdom,  blind ; 
Her  gain,  eternal  loss ;  her  hope,  a  dream  ; 
Her  love,  her  friendship,  enmity  with  God ; 
Her  promises,  a  lie ;  her  smile,  a  harlot's ; 
Her  beauty,  paint,  and  rotten  within ;  her  pleasures, 


236  THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 

Deadly  assassins  masked  ;  her  laughter,  grief; 
Her  breasts,  the  sting  of  Death  ;  her  total  stun, 
Her  all !  most  utter  vanity ;  and  all 
Her  lovers  mad,  insane  most  grievously, 
And  most  insane  because  they  know  it  not. 

Thus  did  the  mighty  reason er,  Death,  declare, 
And  volumes  more  ;  and  in  one  word  confirmed 
The  Bible  whole,  Eternity  is  all. 
But  few  spectators,  few  believed,  of  those 
Who  staid  behind.     The  wisest,  best  of  men, 
Believed  not  to  the  letter  full ;  but  turned, 
And  on  the  world  looked  forth,  as  if  they  thought 
The  well-trimmed  hypocrite  had  something  still 
Of  inward  worth.     The  dying  man  alone, 
Gave  faithful  aud*ience,  and  the  words  of  Death, 
To  the  last  jot,  believed,  believed  and  felt ; 
But  oft,  alas  !  believed  and  felt  too  late. 

And  had  Earth,  then,  no  joys,  no  native  sweets, 
No  happiness,  that  one,  who  spoke  the  truth, 
Might  call  her  own  ?     She  had ;  true,  native  sweets, 
Indigenous  delights,  which  up  the  tree 
Of  holiness,  embracing  as  they  grew, 
Ascended,  and  bore  fruit  of  heavenly  taste ; 
In  pleasant  memory  held,  and  talked  of  oft, 
By  yonder  Saints,  who  walk  the  golden  streets 
Of  New  Jerusalem,  and  compass  round 
The  Throne,  with  nearest  vision  blessed.     Of  these, 
Hereafter,  thou  shalt  hear,  delighted  hear ; — 
.One  page  of  beauty  in  the  life  of  man. 


THB 

COURSE     OF     TIME. 

BOOK  rv. 


ANALYSIS  OP  BOOK  IV. 

Sketches  are  given  by  the  Bard  of  several  features  in  the  history 
and  affairs  of  men,  which  appeared  wonderful. 

One  singular  feature  was  the  universal  love  of  independence 
united  with  lust  for  power,  so  that  the  essence  of  "  earth's  lib 
erty  "  was,  after  all  its  praises,  nothing  but  this :  "  each  sought 
to  make  all  subject  to  his  will  j  "  but  REAL  liberty  was  the 
freedom  from  sin  and  passion,  effected  by  the  truth  and  spirit 
of  God. 

A  wonderful  phenomenon  appeared  in  the  Christian  heart.  This 
exhibited  a  scene  of  strangest  conflicts  between  opposite  prin 
ciples,  and  inconsistent  emotions.  But  the  final  victory  was 
found  on  the  side  of  holiness ;  and  the  Christian,  after  all  his 
internal  struggles,  and  all  the  abuse  and  slander  of  Earth,  was 
brought  in  triumph  to  the  world  of  glory. 

The  Books  composed  in  time  presented  also  an  occasion  of  won 
der.  They  were  numerous  as  the  swarms  of  locusts  sent  on 
rebellious  Egypt,  but,  like  their  authors,  went  to  oblivion  un 
der  the  curse  that  returns  dust  to  kindred  dust. 

Various  things  in  the  government  and  providence  of  God,  fur 
nished  ground  of  wonder  among  men.  The  origin  of  evil,  the 
predetermination  of  accountable  actions,  the  mystery  of  the 
Trinity  and  Incarnation,  were  subjects  which  Theology  and 
Philosophy  and  Fancy  toiled  in  vain  to  comprehend. 
There  seemed  something  wondrous  in  the  unequal  distribution  of 
worldly  possession  and  intellectual  gifts.  But  the  Providence 
of  God  plainly  taught  that  He  did  not  estimate  men  by  their 
outward  circumstances  or  their  mere  talents,  but  by  the  if 
MORAL  WORTH.  A  pertinent  and  affecting  il.ustration  ia  found 
in  the  history  of  the  gifted,  wretched  Byrou. 


THE 


COURSE     OF     TIME 
BOOK    IV. 

THE  world  had  much  of  strange  and  wonderful, 
In  passion  much,  in  action,  reason,  will, 
And  much  in  Providence,  which  still  retired 
From  human  eye,  and  led  Philosophy, 
That  ill  her  ignorance  liked  to  own,  through  dark 
And  dangerous  paths  of  speculation  wild. 
Some  striking  features,  as  we  pass,  we  mark, 
In  order  such  as  memory  suggests. 

One  passion  prominent  appears,  the  lust 
Of  power,  which  oft-times  took  the  fairer  name 
Of  liberty,  and  hung  the  popular  flag 
Of  freedom  out.     Many,  indeed,  its  names. 
"When  on  the  throne  it  sat,  and  round  the  neck 
Of  millions  riveted  its  iron  chain, 
And  on  the  shoulders  of  the  people  laid 
Burdens  unmerciful,  it  title  took 
Of  tyranny,  oppression,  despotism  ; 
And  every  tongue  was  weary  cursing  it. 
When  in  the  multitude  it  gathered  strength, 
And,  like  an  ocean  bursting  from  its  bounds, 
Long  beat  in  vain,  went  forth  resistlessly, 
It  bore  the  stamp  and  designation,  then, 
Of  popular  fury,  anarchy,  rebellion  ; 
And  honest  men  bewailed  all  order  void ; 


240  THE   COURSE   OF  TIME. 

All  laws  annulled  ;  all  property  destroyed  ; 

The  venerable,  murdered  in  the  streets  ; 

The  wise,  despised  ;  streams  red  with  human  blood  ; 

Harvests,  beneath  the  frantic  foot  trod  down ; 

Lands,  desolate ;  and  famine  at  the  door. 

These  are  a  part ;  but  other  names  it  had, 
Innumerous  as  the  shapes  and  robes  it  wore. 
But  under  every  name,  in  nature  still 
Invariably  the  same,  and  always  bad. 
We  own,  indeed,  that  oft  against  itself 
It  fought,  and  sceptre  both  and  people  gave 
An  equal  aid ;  as  long  exemplified 
In  Albion's  isle,  Albion,  queen  of  the  seas ; 
And  in  the  struggle,  something  like  a  kind 
Of  civil  liberty  grew  up,  the  best 
Of  mere  terrestrial  root ;  but,  sickly,  too, 
And  aving  only,  strange  to  tell !  in  strife 
Of  factions  equally  contending ;  dead, 
That  very  moment  dead,  that  one  prevailed. 

Conflicting  cruelly  against  itself, 
By  its  own  hand  it  fell ;  part  slaying  part. 
And  men  who  noticed  not  the  suicide, 
Stood  wondering  much,  why  earth,  from  age  to  age, 
Was  still  enslaved ;  and  erring  causes  gave. 

This  was  earth's  liberty,  its  nature  this, 
However  named,  in  whomsoever  found, — 
And  found  it  was  in  all  of  woman  born, — 
Each  man  to  make  all  subject  to  his  will ; 
To  make  them  do,  undo,  eat,  drink,  stand,  move, 
Talk,  think,  and  feel,  exactly  as  he  chose. 
Hence  the  eternal  strife  of  brotherhoods, 
Of  individuals,  families,  commonwealths. 
The  root  from  which  it  grew  was  pride ;  bad  root. 


BOOK    IV.  241 

And  bad  the  fruit  it  bore.     Then  wonder  not, 

That  long  the  nations  from  it  richly  reaped 

Oppression,  slavery,  tyranny,  and  war ; 

Confusion,  desolation,  trouble,  shame. 

And  marvellous  though  it  seem,  this  monster,  when 

It  took  the  name  of  slavery,  as  oft 

It  did,  had  advo  ^ates  to  plead  its  cause ; 

Beings  that  walked  erect,  and  spoke  like  men; 

Of  Christian  parentage  descended,  too, 

And  dipped  in  the  baptismal  font,  as  sign 

Of  dedication  to  the  Prince  who  bowed 

To  death,  to  set  the  sin-bound  prisoner  free, 

Unchristian  thought !  on  what  pretence  soe'er 
Of  right,  inherited,  or  else  acquired ; 
Of  loss,  or  profit,  or  what  plea  you  name, 
To  buy  and  sell,  to  barter,  whip,  and  hold 
In  chains,  a  being  of  celestial  make  ; 
Of  kindred  form,  of  kindred  faculties, 
Of  kindred  feelings,  passions,  thoughts,  desires ; 
Born  free,  and  heir  of  an  immortal  hope  ; 
Thought  villanous,  absxird,  detestable  ! 
Unworthy  to  be  harbored  in  a  fiend ! 
And  only  overreached  in  wickedness 
By  that,  birth,  too,  of  earthly  liberty, 
Which  aimed  to  make  a  reasonable  man 
By  legislation  think,  and  by  the  sword 
Believe.     This  was  that  liberty  renowned, 
Those  equal  rights  of  Greece  and  Rome,  where  men, 
All,  but  a  few,  were  bought,  and  sold,  and  scourged, 
And  killed,  as  interest  or  caprice  enjoined ; 
In  after  times  talked  of,  written  of,  so  much, 
That  most,  by  sound  and  custom  led  away, 
Believed  the  essence  answered  to  the  name. 
Historians  on  this  theme  were  long  and  warm. 
Statesmen,  drunk  with  the  fumes  of  vain  debate, 
21 


242  THE    COURSE   OF   TIME. 

In  lofty  swelling  phrase,  called  it  perfection. 

Philosophers  its  rise,  advance,  and  fall, 

Traced  carefully  :  and  poets  kindled  still, 

As  memory  brought  it  up  ;  their  lips  were  touched 

With  fire,  and  uttered  words  that  men  adored. 

Even  he,  true  bard  of  Zion,  holy  man  ! 

To  whom  the  Bible  taught  this  precious  verse, 

"  He  is  the  freeman  whom  the  truth  makes  free," 

By  fashion,  though  by  fashion  little  swayed, 

Scarce  kept  his  harp  from  pagan  freedom's  praise. 

The  captive  prophet,  whom  Jehovah  gave 
The  future  years,  described  it  best,  when  he 
Beheld  it  rise  in  vision  of  the  night : 
A  dreadful  beast,  and  terrible,  and  strong 
Exceedingly,  with  mighty  iron  teeth  ; 
And,  lo,  it  brake  in  pieces,  and  devoured, 
And  stamped  the  residue  beneath  its  feet ! 

True  liberty  was  Christian,  sanctified, 
Baptized,  and  found  in  Christian  hearts  alone ; 
First-born  of  Virtue,  daughter  of  the  skies, 
Nursling  of  truth  divine,  sister  of  all 
The  graces,  meekness,  holiness,  and  love  ; 
Giving  to  God,  and  man,  and  all  below, 
That  symptom  showed  of  sensible  existence, 
Their  due,  unasked  ;  fear  to  whom  fear  was  due ; 
To  all,  respect,  benevolence,  and  love ; 
Companion  of  religion,  where  she  came, 
There  freedom  came;   where  dwelt,  there  freedom 

dwelt, 
Ruled  where  she  ruled,  expired  where  she  expired. 

"  He  was  the  freeman  whom  the  truth  made  free," 
Who,  first  of  all,  the  bands  of  Satan  broke  ; 
Who  broke  the  bands  of  sin  ;  and  for  his  soul. 


BOOK   IV. 


243 


In  spite  of  fools,  consulted  seriously ; 

In  spite  of  fashion,  persevered  in  good ; 

In  spite  of  wealth  or  poverty,  upright ; 

Who  did  as  reason,  not  as  fancy,  bade ; 

"Who  heard  temptation  sing,  and  yet  turned  not 

Aside  ;  saw  Sin  bedeck  her  flowery  bed, 

And  yet  would  not  go  up  ;  felt  at  his  heart 

The  sword  unsheathed,  yet  would  not  sell  the  truth ; 

Who,  having  power,  had  not  the  will  to  hurt ; 

Who  blushed  alike  to  be,  or  have  a  slave  ; 

Who  blushed  at  naught  but  sin,  feared  naught  but 

God; 

Who,  finally,  in  strong  integrity 
Of  soul,  'midst  want,  or  riches,  or  disgrace, 
Uplifted,  calmly  sat,  and  heard  the  waves 
Of  stormy  folly  breaking  at  his  feet, 
Now  shrill  with  praise,  now  hoarse  with  foul  reproacn, 
And  both  despised  sincerely  ;  seeking  this 
Alone,  The  approbation  of  his  God, 
Which  still  with  conscience  witnessed  to  his  peace. 

This,  this  is  freedom,  such  as  angels  use, 
And  kindred  to  the  liberty  of  God. 
First-born  of  Virtue,  daughter  of  the  skies  ! 
The  man,  the  state,  in  whom  she  ruled,  was  free ; 
All  else  were  slaves  of  Satan,  Sin,  and  Death. 

Already  thou  hast  something  heard  of  good 
And  ill,  of  vice  and  virtue,  perfect  each ; 
Of  those  redeemed,  or  else  abandoned  quite  ; 
And  more  shalt  hear,  when,  at  the  judgment- day, 
The  characters  of  mankind  we  review. 
Seems  aught  which  thou  hast  heard  astonishing  : 
A  greater  wonder  now  thy  audience  asks  ; 
Phenomena  in  all  the  universe, 
Of  moral  being  most  anomalous, 


244  THE    COURSE   OP   TIME. 

Inexplicable  most,  and  wonderful. 

I'll  introduce  th.ee  to  a  single  heart, 

A  human  heart.     We  enter  not  the  worst, 

But  one  by  God's  renewing  Spirit  touched, 

A  Christian  heart,  awaked  from  sleep  of  sin. 

What  seest  thou  here?  what  markst?  Observe  it  well 

Will,  passion,  reason,  hopes,  fears,  joy,  distress, 

Peace,  turbulence,  simplicity,  deceit, 

Good,  ill,  corruption,  immortality, 

A  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  yet 

Oft  lodging  fiends ;  the  dwelling-place  of  all 

The  heavenly  virtues,  charity  and  truth, 

Humility,  and  holiness,  and  love  ; 

And  yet  the  common  haunt  of  anger,  pride, 

Hatred,  revenge,  and  passions  foul  with  lust ; 

Allied  to  heaven,  yet  parleying  oft  with  hell  • 

A  soldier  listed  in  Messiah's  band, 

Yet  giving  quarter  to  Abaddon's  troops  ; 

With  seraphs  drinking  from  the  well  of  life, 

And  yet  carousing  in  the  cup  of  death ; 

An  heir  of  heaven,  and  walking  thitherward, 

Yet  casting  back  a  covetous  eye  on  earth : 

Emblem  of  strength,  and  weakness  ;  loving  now, 

And  now  abhorring  sin  ;  indulging  now, 

And  now  repenting  sore  ;  rejoicing  now, 

With  joy  unspeakable,  and  full  of  glory; 

Now  weeping  bitterly,  and  clothed  in  dust ; 

A  man  willing  to  do,  and  doing  not ; 

Doing,  and  willing  not ;  embracing  what 

He  hates,  what  most  he  loves  abandoning  ; 

Half  saint,  and  sinner  half ;  half  life,  half  death  ; 

Commixture  strange  of  heaven,  and  earth,  and  helL 

What  seest  thou  here  ?  what  mark'st  ?  A  battle* 

field, 
Two  banners  spread,  two  dreadful  fronts  of  war 


•BOOK  rv. 


245 


In  shock  of  opposition  fierce,  engaged. 

God,  angels,  saw  whole  empires  rise  in  arms, 

Saw  kings  exalted,  heard  them  tumble  down, 

And  others  raised,— and  heeded  not ;  but  heie 

God,  angels,  looked  ;  God,  angels,  fought ;  and     .ell, 

With  all  his  legions,  fought :  here,  error  fought 

With  truth,  with  darkness  light,  and  life  with  death; 

And  here,  not  kingdoms,  reputations,  worlds, 

Were  won  ;  the  strife  was  for  eternity, 

The  victory  was  never-ending  bliss, 

The  badge,  a  chaplet  from  the  tree  of  life. 

While  thus,  within,  contending  armies  strove 
Without,  the  Christian  had  his  troubles  too. 
For,  as  by  God's  unalterable  laws, 
And  ceremonial  of  the  Heaven  of  Heavens, 
Virtue  takes  place  of  all,  and  worthiest  deeds 
Sit  highest  at  the  feast  of  bliss  ;  on  earth, 
The  opposite  was  fashion's  rule  polite. 
Virtue  the  lowest  place  at  table  took, 
Or  served,  or  was  shut  out ;  the  Christian  still 
Was  mocked,  derided,  persecuted,  slain  ; 
And  Slander,  worse  than  mockery,  or  sword, 
Or  death,  stood  nightly  by  her  horrid  forge, 
And  fabricated  lies  to  stain  his  name, 
And  wound  his  peace ;  but  still  he  had  a  source 
Of  happiness,  that  men  could  neither  give 
Nor  take  away.     The  avenues  that  led 
To  immortality  before  him  lay. 
He  saw,  with  faith's  far-reaching  eye,  the  fount 
Of  life,  his  Father's  house,  his  Saviour  God, 
And  borrowed  thence  to  help  his  present  want. 

Encountered  thus  with  enemies,  without, 
Within,  like  bark  that  meets  opposing  winds 
\nd  floods,  this  way,  now  that,  she  steers  athwart, 
21* 


246  THE   COURSE   OP  TIME. 

Tossed  by  the  wave,  and  driven  by  the  storm  ; 
But  still  the  pilot,  ancient  at  the  helm, 
The  harbor  keeps  in  eye  ;  and  ai'ter  much 
Of  danger  passed,  and  many  a  prayer  rude, 
He  runs  her  safely  in  :  so  was  the  man 
Of  God  beset,  so  tossed  by  adverse  winds ; 
And  so  his  eye  upon  the  land  of  life 
He  kept.     Virtue  grew  daily  stronger,  sin 
Decayed  ;  his  enemies,  repulsed,  retired ; 
Till,  at  the  stature  of  a  perfect  man 
In  Christ  arrived,  and  with  the  Spirit  filled, 
He  gained  the  harbor  of  eternal  rest. 

But  think  not  virtue,  else  than  dwells  in  God 
Essentially,  was  perfect,  without  spot. 
Examine  yonder  suns.     At  distance  seen, 
How  bright  they  burn ;  how  gloriously  they  shine. 
Mantling  the  worlds  around  in  beamy  light ! 
But  nearer  viewed,  we  through  their  lustre  see 
Some  dark  behind ;  so  virtue  was  on  earth, 
So  is  in  heaven,  and  so  shall  always  be. 
Though  good  it  seem,  immaculate,  and  fair 
Exceedingly,  to  saint  or  angel's  gaze, 
The  uncreated  Eye,  that  searches  all, 
Sees  it  imperfect ;  sees,  but  blames  not ;  sees, 
Well  pleased,  and  best  with  those  who  deepest  dive 
Into  themselves,  and  know  themselves  the  most ; 
Taught  thence  in  humbler  reverence  to  bow 
Before  the  Holy  One ;  and  oftener  view 
His  excellence,  that  in  them  still  may  rise, 
And  grow  his  likeness,  growing  evermore. 

Nor  think  that  any,  born  of  Adam's  race, 
In  his  own  proper  virtue,  entered  heaven. 
Once  fallen  from  God  and  perfect  holiness, 
No  being,  unassisted,  e'er  could  rise. 


BOOK  iv.  247 

Or  sanctify  the  sin-polluted  soul. 
Oft  was  tlie  trial  made,  but  vainly  made. 
So  oft  as  men,  in  earth's  best  livery  clad, 
However  fair,  approached  the  gates  of  heaven. 
And  stood  presented  to  the  eye  of  God, 
Their  impious  pride  so  oft  his  soul  abhorred. 
Vain  hope  !  in  patch-work  of  terrestrial  grain, 
To  be  received  into  the  courts  above  ! 
As  vain  as  towards  yonder  suns  to  soar, 
On  wing  of  waxen  plumage,  melting  soon. 

Look  round,  and  see  those  numbers  infinite, 
That  stand  before  the  Throve,  and  in  their  hands 
Palms  waving  high,  as  token  of  victory 
For  battles  won.    These  are  the  sons  of  men 
Redeemed,  the  ransomed  of  the  Lamb  of  God 
All  these,  and  millions  more  of  kindred  blood, 
Who  now  are  out  on  messages  of  love. 
All  these,  their  virtue,  beauty,  excellence, 
And  joy,  are  purchase  of  redeeming  blood ; 
Their  glory,  bounty  of  redeeming  love. 

O  Love  divine  ! — Harp,  lift  thy  voice  on  high ! 
Shout,  angels  !  shout  aloud,  ye  sons  of  men  ! 
And  burn,  my  heart,  with  the  eternal  flame  ! 
My  lyre,  be  eloquent  with  endless  praise  ! — 
O  Love  divine  !  immeasurable  Love  ! 
Stooping  from  heaven  to  earth,  from  earth  to  hell, 
Without  beginning,  endless,  boundless  Love  ! 
Above  all  asking,  giving  far,  to  those 
Who  naught  deserved,  who  naught  deserved  but  death, 
Saving  the  vilest !  saving  me !  O  Love 
Divine  !  O  Saviour  God  !  O  Lamb,  once  slain  ! 
At  thought  of  thee,  thy  love,  thy  flowing  blood, 
All  thoughts  decay  ;  all  things  remembered  fade ; 
All  hopes  return ;  all  actions  done  by  men 


248  THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 

Or  angels,  disappear,  absorbed  and  lost ; 
All  fly,  as  from  the  great  white  Throne,  which  he, 
The  prophet,  saw,  in  vision  wrapped,  the  heavens 
And  earth,  and  sun,  and  moon,  and  stany  host, 
Confounded,  fled,  and  found  a  place  no  more. 

One  glance  of  wonder,  as  we  pass,  deserve 
The  books  of  Time.     Productive  was  the  world 
In  many  things,  but  most  in  books.     Like  swarms 
Of  locusts,  which  God  sent  to  vex  a  land 
Rebellious  long,  admonished  long  in  vain, 
Their  numbers  they  poured  annually  on  man, 
From  heads  conceiving  still.     Perpetual  birth ! 
Thou  wonderest  how  the  world  contained  them  all  ? 
Thy  wonder  stay.     Like  men,  this  was  their  doom, 
"  That  dust  they  were,  and  should  to  dust  return." 
And  oft  their  fathers,  childless  and  bereaved, 
Wept  o'er  their  graves,  when  they  themselves  wer« 

green.; 

And  on  them  fell,  as  fell  on  every  age, 
As  on  their  authors  fell,  oblivious  Night, 
Which  o'er  the  past  lay,  darkling,  heavy,  still, 
Impenetrable,  motionless,  and  sad, 
Having  his  dismal,  leaden  plumage  stirred 
By  no  remembrancer,  to  show  the  men 
Who  after  came  what  was  concealed  beneath. 

The  story-telling  tribe,  alone,  outran 
All  calculation  far,  and  left  behind, 
Lagging,  the  swiftest  numbers.     Dreadful,  even 
To  fancy,  was  their  never-ceasing  birth  ; 
And  room  had  lacked,  had  not  their  life  been  short. 
Excepting  some,  their  definition  take 
Thou  thus,  expressed  in  gentle  phrase,  which  leaves 
Some  truth  behind  ;  A  Novel  was  a  book 
Three- volumed,  and  once  read,  and  oft  crammed  full 


BOOK  re.  249 

Of  poisonous  error,  blackening  every  page, 
And  oftener  still,  of  trifling,  second-hand 
Kemark,  and  old,  diseased,  putrid  thought, 
And  miserable  incident,  at  war 
With  nature,  with  itself  and  truth  at  war ; 
Yet  charming  still  the  greedy  reader  on, 
Till  done,  he  tried  to  recollect  his  thoughts, 
And  nothing  found,  but  dreaming  emptiness. 
These,  like  ephemera,  sprung,  in  a  day, 
From  lean  and  shallow-soiled  brains  of  sand, 
And  in  a  day  expired  ;  yet,  while  they  lived, 
Tremendous  oft-times  was  the  popular  roar ; 
And  cries  of — Live  for  ever  !  struck  the  skies. 

One  kind  alone  remained,  seen  through  the  gloom 
And  sullen  shadow  of  the  past :  as  lights 
At  intervals  they  shone,  and  brought  the  eye, 
That  backward  travelled,  upward,  till  arrived 
At  him,  who,  on  the  hills  of  Midian,  sang 
The  patient  man  of  Uz  ;  and  from  the  lyre 
Of  angels,  learned  the  early  dawn  of  Time. 
Not  light  and  momentary  labor  these, 
But  discipline  and  self-denial  long, 
And  purpose  stanch,  and  perseverance,  asked, 
And  energy  that  inspiration  seemed. 
Composed  of  many  thoughts,  possessing  each 
Innate  and  underived  vitality ; 
Which,  having  fitly  shaped,  and  well  arranged 
In  brotherly  accord,  they  builded  up  ; 
A  stately  superstructure,  that,  nor  wind, 
Nor  wave,  nor  shock  of  falling  years,  could  move ; 
Majestic  and  indissolubly  firm  ; 
As  ranks  of  veteran  warriors  in  'he  field, 
Kach  by  himself  alone  and  singly  seen, 
A  tower  of  strength  ;  in  massy  phalanx  knit, 


250  THE    COURSE   OF   TIMB. 

And  in  embattled  squadron  rushing  on, 
A  sea  of  valor,  dread,  invincible. 

Books  of  this  sort,  or  sacred,  or  profane, 
Which  virtue  helped,  were  titled,  not  amiss, 
"  The  medicine  of  the  mind  :  "  who  read  them,  read 
"Wisdom,  and  was  refreshed ;  and  on  his  path 
Of  pilgrimage,  with  healthier  step  advanced. 

In  mind,  in  matter,  much  was  difficulty 
To  understand.     But,  what  in  deepest  night 
Retired,  inscrutable,  mysterious,  dark, — 
Was  evil,  God's  decrees,  and  deeds  decreed, 
Responsible  :  why  God,  the  just  and  good, 
Omnipotent  and  wise,  should  suffer  sin 
To  rise  :  why  man  was  free,  accountable  ; 
Yet  God  foreseeing,  overruling  all. 
Where'er  the  eye  could  turn,  whatever  tract 
Of  moral  thought  it  took,  by  reason's  torch, 
Or  Scripture's  led,  before  it  still  this  mount 
Sprung  up,  impervious,  insurmountable, 
Above  the  human  stature  rising  far ; 
Horizon  of  the  mind,  surrounding  still 
The  vision  of  the  soul  with  clouds  and  gloom. 
Yet  did  they  oft  attempt  to  scale  its  sides, 
And  gain  its  top.     Philosophy,  to  climb, 
With  all  her  vigor,  toiled  from  age  to  age ; 
From  age  to  age,  Theology,  with  all 
Her  vigor,  toiled ;  and  vagrant  Fancy  toiled. 
Not  weak  and  foolish  only,  but  the  wise, 
Patient,  courageous,  stout,  sound-headed  man, 
Of  proper  discipline,  of  excellent  wind, 
And  strong  of  intellectual  limb,  toiled  hard  : 
And  oft  above  the  reach  of  common  eye 
Ascended  far,  and  seemed  well  nigh  the  top, 
But  only  seemed  ;  for  still  another  top 


BOOK  rv.  261 

Anove  them  rose,  till,  giddj  grown  and  mad, 

With  gazing  at  these  dangerous  heights  of  God, 

They  tumbled  down,  and  in  their  raving  said, 

They  o'er  the  summit  saw.     And  some  believed, 

Believed  a  lie  ;  for  never  man  on  earth, 

That  mountain  crossed,  or  saw  its  farther  side. 

Around  it  lay  the  wreck  of  many  a  Sage, 

Divine,  Philosopher  ;  and  many  more 

Fell  daily,  undeterred  by  millions  fallen  ; 

Each  wondering  why  he  failed  to  comprehend 

God,  and  with  finite  measure  infinite. 

To  pass  it,  was  no  doubt  desirable  ; 

And  few  of  any  intellectual  size, 

That  did  not,  sometime  in  their  day,  attempt ; 

But  all  in  vain  ;  for  as  the  distant  hill, 

Which,  on  the  right  or  left,  the  traveller's  eye 

Bounds,  seems  advancing  as  he  walks,  and  oft 

He  looks,  and  looks,  and  thinks  to  pass  ;  but  still 

It  forward  moves,  and  mocks  his  baffled  sight, 

Till  night  descends,  and  wraps  the  scene  in  gloom , 

So  did  this  moral  height  the  vision  mock  ; 

So  lifted  up  its  dark  and  cloudy  head, 

Before  the  eye,  and  met  it  evermore  ; 

And  some,  provoked,  accused  the  righteous  God. 

Accused  of  what  ?  hear  human  boldness  now ! 

Hear  guilt,  hear  folly,  madness,  all  extreme  ! 

Accused  of  what  ?  the  God  of  truth  accused 

Of  cruelty,  injustice,  wickedness. 

Abundant  sin  !  because  a  mortal  man, 

A  worm,  at  best,  of  small  capacity, 

With  scarce  an  atom  of  Jehovah's  works 

Before  him,  and  with  scarce  an  hour  to  look 

Upon  them,  should  presume  to  censure  God, 

The  infinite  and  uncreated  God  ! 

To  sit,  in  judgment,  on  Himself,  his  works, 

His  providence  !  and  try,  accuse,  condemn T 


252  THE    COURSE   OP   TIMB. 

If  there  is  aught,  thought  or  to  think,  absurd, 
Irrational  and  wicked,  this  is  more, 
This  most ;  the  sin  of  devils,  or  of  those 
To  devils  growing  fast.     Wise  men  and  gctxi 
Accused  themselves,  not  God  ;  and  put  their  hands 
Upon  their  mouths,  and  in  the  dust  adored. 

The  Christian's  faith  had  many  mysteries  too ; 
The  uncreated  holy  Three  in  One, 
Divine  incarnate,  human  in  divine  ; 
The  inward  call ;  the  Sanctifying  Dew 
Coming  unseen,  unseen  departing  thence ; 
Anew  creating  all,  and  yet  not  heard  ; 
Compelling,  yet  not  felt.     Mysterious  these, 
Not  that  Jehovah  to  conceal  them  wished, 
Not  that  religion  wished.     The  Christian  faith, 
Unlike  the  timorous  creeds  of  pagan  priests, 
Was  frank,  stood  forth  to  view,  invited  all 
To  prove,  examine,  search,  investigate, 
And  gave  herself  a  light  to  see  her  by. 
Mysterious  these,  because  too  large  for  eye 
Of  man,  too  long  for  human  arm  to  mete. 

Go  to  yon  mount,  which  on  the  north  side  stands 
Of  New  Jerusalem,  and  lifts  its  head 
Serene  in  glory  bright,  except  the  hill, 
The  Sacred  Hill  of  God,  whereon  no  foot 
Must  tread,  highest  of  all  creation's  walks, 
And  overlooking  all,  in  prospect  vast, 
From  out  the  ethereal  blue.    That  cliff  ascend, 
Gaze  thence,  around  thee  look ;  naught  now  impede* 
Thy  view  ;  yet  still  thy  vision,  purified 
And  strong  although  it  be,  a  boundary  meets  ; 
Or  rather,  thou  wilt  say,  thy  vision  fails 
To  gaze  throughout  illimitable  space, 
And  find  tho  end  of  infinite  :  and  so 


BOOK  iv.  268 

It  was  with  aU  the  mysteries  of  faith. 

God  set  them  forth  unveiled  to  the  full  gaze 

Of  man,  and  asked  him  to  investigate ; 

But  Reason's  eye,  however  purified, 

And  011  whatever  tall  and  goodly  heignt 

Of  observation  placed,  to  comprehend 

Them  fully,  sought  in  vain  :  in  vain  seeks  still ; 

But,  wiser  now  and  humbler,  she  concludes, 

From  what  she  knows  already  of  his  love 

All  gracious,  that  she  cannot  understand ; 

And  gives  him  credit,  reverence,  praise  for  alL 

Another  feature  in  the  ways  of  God, 
That  wondrous  seemed,  and  made  some  men  complain, 
Was  the  unequal  gift  of  worldly  things. 
Great  was  the  difference,  indeed,  of  men 
Externally,  from  beggar  to  the  prince. 
The  highest  take  and  lowest,  and  conceive 
The  scale  between.     A  noble  of  the  earth, 
One  of  its  great,  in  splendid  mansion  dweit; 
Was  robed  in  silk  and  gold  ;  and  every  day 
Fared  sumptuously  ;  was  titled,  honored,  served. 
Thousands  his  nod  awaited,  and  his  will 
For  law  received.     Whole  provinces  his  march 
Attended,  and  his  chariot  drew,  or  on 
Their  shoulders  bore  aloft  the  precious  man. 
Millions,  abased,  fell  prostrate  at  his  feet  : 
And  millions  more  thundered  adoring  praise. 
As  far  as  eye  could  reach,  he  called  the  land 
His  own,  and  added  yearly  to  his  fields. 
Like  tree  that  of  the  soil  took  healthy  root, 
He  grew  on  every  side,  and  towered  on  high, 
And  over  half  a  nation  shadowing  wide, 
He  spread  his  ample  boughs.     Air,  earth,  and  sea, 
Nature  entire,  the  brute,  and  rational, 
Tc  please  him  ministered,  and  vied  among 
22 


54  THE   COURSE   OF  TIME. 

Themselves,  who  most  should  his  desires  prevent, 

Watching  the  moving  of  his  rising  thoughts, 

Attentively,  and  hasting  to  fulfil. 

His  palace  rose  and  kissed  the  gorgeous  clouds  : 

Streams  bent  their  music  to  his  wilL  trees  sprurg, 

The  native  waste  put  on  luxuriant  robes  ; 

And  plans  of  happv  cottages  cast  out 

Their  tenant?,  and  became  a  hunting-field. 

Before  him  bowed  the  distant  isles,  with  fruits 

And  spices  rare ;  the  South  her  treasures  brought ; 

The  East  and  West  sent ;  and  the  frigid  North 

Came  with  her  offering  of  glossy  furs. 

Musicians  soothed  his  ear  with  airs  select ; 

Beauty  held  out  her  arms  ;  and  every  man 

Of  cunning  skill,  and  curious  device, 

And  endless  multitudes  of  liveried  wights, 

His  pleasure  waited  with  obsequious  look. 

And  when  the  wants  of  nature  were  supplied 

And  common-place  extravagances  filled, 

Beyond  their  asking  ;  and  caprice  itself, 

In  all  its  zig-zag  appetites,  gorged  full, 

The  man  new  wants  and  new  expenses  planned  ; 

Nor  planned  alone.     Wise,  learned,  sober  men, 

Of  cogitation  deep,  took  up  his  case, 

And  planned  for  him  new  modes  of  folly  wild ; 

Contrived  new  wishes,  wants,  and  wondrous  mean* 

Of  spending  with  despatch ;  yet,  after  all, 

His  fields  extended  still,  his  riches  grew, 

And  what  seemed  splendor  infinite,  increased. 

So  lavishly  upon  a  single  man 

Did  Providence  his  bounties  daily  shower. 

Turn  now  thy  eye,  and  look  on  Poverty ; 
Look  on  the  lowest  of  her  ragged  sons. 
"Wa  find  him  by  the  way,  sitting  in  dust ; 
He  has  no  bread  to  eat,  no  tongue  to  ask, 


JBOOK.  iv.  255 

No  limbs  to  walk,  no  home,  no  house,  no  friend. 

Observe  his  goblin  cheek,  his  wretched  eye ; 

See  how  his  hand,  if  any  hand  he  has, 

Involuntary  opens,  and  trembles  forth, 

As  comes  the  traveller's  foot ;  and  hear  his  groan, 

Sis  long  and  lamentable  groan,  announce 

The  want  that  gnaws  within.     Severely  now 

The  sun  scorches  and  burns  his  old  bald  head ; 

The  frost  now  glues  him  to  the  chilly  earth. 

On  him  hail,  rain,  and  tempest,  rudely  beat ; 

And  all  the  winds  of  heaven,  in  jocular  mood, 

Sport  with  his  withered  rags,  that,  tossed  about, 

Display  his  nakedness  to  passers  by, 

And  grievously  burlesque  the  human  form. 

Observe  him  yet  more  narrowly.     His  limbs, 

With  palsy  shaken,  about  him,  blasted  lie ; 

And  all  his  flesh  is  full  of  putrid  sores 

And  noisome  wounds,  his  bones,  of  racking  pains. 

Strange  vesture  this  for  an  immortal  soul ! 

Strange  retinue  to  wait  a  lord  of  earth  ! 

It  seems  as  Nature,  in  some  surly  mood, 

After  debate  and  musing  long,  had  tried 

How  vile  and  miserable  thing  her  hand 

Could  fabricate,  then  made  this  meagre  man, 

A  sight  so  full  of  perfect  misery, 

That  passengers  their  faces  turned  away, 

And  hasted  to  be  gone ;  and  delicate 

And  tender  women  took  another  path. 

This  great  disparity  of  outward  things 
Taught  many  lessons ;  but  this  taught  in  chief, 
Though  learned  by  few  :  That  God  no  value  set, 
That  man  should  none,  on  goods  of  worldly  kind ! 
On  transitory,  frail,  external  things, 
Of  migratory,  ever-changing  sort : 
And  further  taught,  that  in  the  soul  alone^ 


256  THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 

The  thinking,  reasonable,  willing  soul, 
God  placed  the  total  excellence  of  man  ; 
And  meant  him  evermore  to  seek  it  there. 

But  stranger  still  the  distribution  seemed 
Of  intellect,  though  fewer  here  complained, 
Each  with  his  share,  upon  the  whole,  content. 
One  man  there  was — and  many  such  you  might 
Have  met — who  never  had  a  dozen  thoughts 
In  all  his  life,  and  never  changed  their  course  ; 
But  told  them  o'er,  each  in  its  customed  place, 
From  morn  till  night,  from  youth  to  hoary  age. 
Little  above  the  ox  that  grazed  the  field, 
His  reason  rose  ;  so  weak  his  memory, 
The  name  his  mother  called  him  by,  he  scarce 
Remembered  ;  and  his  judgment  so  untaught, 
That  what  at  evening  played  along  the  swamp, 
Fantastic,  clad  in  robe  of  fiery  hue, 
He  thought  the  devil  in  disguise,  and  fled 
With  quivering  heart  and  winged  footsteps  home. 
The  word  philosophy  he  never  heard, 
Or  science  ;  never  heard  of  liberty, 
Necessity,  or  laws  of  gravitation  ; 
And  never  had  an  unbelieving  doubt. 
Beyond  his  native  vale  he  never  looked  ; 
But  thought  the  visual  line,  that  girt  him  round, 
The  world's  extreme  ;  and  thought  the  silver  Moon, 
That  nightly  o'er  him  led  her  virgin  host, 
No  broader  than  his  father's  shield.     He  lived, — 
Lived  where  his  father  lived,  died  where  he  died, 
Lived  happy,  and  died  happy,  and  was  saved. 
Be  not  surprised.     He  loved  and  served  his  God. 

There  was  another,  large  of  understanding, 
Of  memory  infinite,  of  judgment  deep, 
Who  knew  all  learning,  and  all  science  Knew  ; 


BOOK  rv.  257 

And  all  pnenomena,  in  heaven  and  earth, 

Traced  to  their  causes ;  traced  the  labyrinths 

Of  thought,  association,  passion,  will ; 

And  all  the  subtle,  nice  affinities 

Of  matter  traced,  its  virtues,  motions,  laws ; 

And  most  familiarly  and  deeply  talked 

Of  mental,  moral,  natural,  divine. 

Leaving  the  earth  at  will,  he  soared  to  heaven. 

And  read  the  glorious  visions  of  the  skies  ; 

And  to  the  music  of  the  rolling  spheres 

Intelligently  listened  ;  and  gazed  far  back 

Into  the  awful  depths  of  Deity ; 

Did  all  that  mind  assisted  most  could  do  ; 

And  yet  in  misery  lived,  in  misery  died, 

Because  he  wanted  holiness  of  heart. 

A  deeper  lesson  this  to  mortals  taught, 
And  nearer  cut  the  branches  of  their  pride, 
That  not  in  mental,  but  in  moral  worth, 
God  excellence  placed  ;  and  only  to  the  good, 
To  virtue,  granted  happiness,  alone. 

Admire  the  goodness  of  Almighty  God  ! 
He  riches  gave,  he  intellectual  strength, 
To  few,  and  therefore  none  commands  to  be 
Or  rich,  or  learned ;  nor  promises  reward 
Of  peace  to  these.     On  all,  He  moral  worth 
Bestowed,  and  moral  tribute  asked  from  all. 
And  who  that  could  not  pay  ?  who  born  so  poor, 
Of  intellect  so  mean,  as  not  to  know 
What  seemed  the  best ;  and,  knowing,  might  not  do, 
As  not  to  know  what  God  and  conscience  bade, 
And  what  they  bade  not  able  to  obey ; 
And  he,  who  acted  thus,  fulfilled  the  law 
Eternal,  and  promise  reaped  of  peace  ; 
Found  peace  this  way  alone :  who  sought  it  else, 
22* 


258  THE   COURSE   OF  TIME. 

Bought  mellow  grapes  beneath  the  icy  Pole, 
Sought  blooming  roses  on  the  cheek  of  death, 
Sought  substance  in  a  world  of  fleeting  shades. 

Take  one  example,  to  our  purpose  quite. 
A  man  of  rank,  and  of  capacious  soul, 
Who  riches  had  and  fame,  beyond  desire ; 
An  heir  of  flattery,  to  titles  born, 
And  reputation  and  luxurious  life  : 
Yet  not  content  with  ancestorial  name, 
Or  to  be  known  because  his  fathers  were, 
He  on  this  height  hereditary  stood, 
And,  gazing  higher,  purposed  in  his  heart 
To  take  another  step.     Above  him  seemed, 
Alone,  the  mount  of  song,  the  lofty  seat 
Of  canonized  bards  ;  and  thitherward, 
By  nature  taught,  and  inward  melody, 
In  prime  of  youth,  he  bent  his  eagle  eye. 
No  cost  was  spared.    What  books  he  wished,  he  read ; 
What  sage  to  hear  he  heard ;  what  scenes  to  see, 
He  saw.     And  first  in  rambling  school-boy  days 
Britannia's  mountain  walks,  and  heath-girt  lakes, 
And  story-telling  glens,  and  founts,  and  brooks, 
And  maids,  as  dew-drops  pure  and  fair,  his  soul 
With  grandeur  filled,  and  melody,  and  love. 
Then  travel  came,  and  took  him  where  he  wished. 
He  cities  saw,  and  courts,  and  princely  pomp ; 
And  mused  alone  on  ancient  mountain-brows : 
And  mused  on  battle-fields,  where  valor  fought 
In  other  days  ;  and  mused  on  ruins  gray 
With  years  ;  and  drank  from  old  and  fabulous  wells, 
And  plucked  the  vine  that  first-born  prophets  plucked; 
And  mused  on  famous  tombs,  and  on  the  wave 
Of  Ocean  mused,  and  on  the  desert  waste ; 
The  heavens  and  earth  of  every  country  saw. 
Where'er  the  old  inspiring  Genii  dwelt. 


259 


A-uglit  that  could  rouse,  expand,  refine  the  soul, 
IMther  he  went,  and  meditated  there. 

He  touched  his  harp,  and  nations  heard,  entranced. 
As  some  vast  river  of  unfailing  source, 
Rapid,  exhaustless,  deep,  his  numbers  flowed, 
And  opened  new  fountains  in  the  human  heart. 
Where  Fancy  halted,  weary  in  her  flight, 
In  other  men,  his,  fresh  as  morning,  rose, 
And  soared  untrodden  heights,  and  seemed  at  home, 
Where  angels  bashful  looked.     Others,  though  great, 
Beneath  their  arguments  seemed  struggling  whiles ; 
He,  from  above  descending,  stooped  to  touch 
The  loftiest  thought ;  and  proudly  stooped,  as  though 
It  scarce  deserved  his  verse.     With  Nature's  self 
He  seemed  an  old  acquaintance,  free  to  jest 
At  will  with  all  her  glorious  majesty. 
He  laid  his  hand  upon  "  the  Ocean's  mane," 
And  played  familiar  with  his  hoary  locks  ; 
Stood  on  the  Alps,  stood  on  the  Appenines. 
And  with  the  thunder  talked,  as  friend  to  friend ; 
And  wove  his  garland  of  the  lightning's  wing, 
In  sportive  twist— the  lightning's  fiery  wing, 
Which,  as  the  footsteps  of  the  dreadful  God, 
Marching  upon  the  storm  in  vengeance,  seemed ; 
Then  turned,  and  with  the  grasshopper,  who  sung 
His  evening  song  beneath  his  feet,  conversed. 
Suns,  moons,  and  stars,  and  clouds,  his  sisters  were  ; 
Kocks,   moimtains,   meteors,   seas,    and  winds,    and 

storms, 

His  brothers,  younger  brothers,  whom  he  scarce 
As  equals  deemed.     All  passions  of  all  men, 
The  wild  and  tame,  the  gentle  and  severe ; 
All  thoughts,  all  maxims,  sacred  and  profane  ; 
All  creeds,  all  seasons,  Time,  Eternity ; 
All  that  was  hated,  rnd  all  that  was  dear ; 


260  THE   COUBSE   OF   TIME. 

All  that  was  hoped,  all  that  was  feared,  by  man ; 
He  tossed  about,  as  tempest,  withered  leaves  ; 
Then,  smiling,  looked  upon  the  wreck  he  made. 
With  terror  now  he  froze  the  cowering  blood, 
And  now  dissolved  the  heart  in  tenderness  ; 
Yet  would  not  tremble,  would  not  weep  himself  ; 
But  back  into  his  soul  retired,  alone, 
Dark,  sullen,  proud,  gazing  contemptuously 
On  hearts  and  passions  prostrate  at  his  feet. 
So  Ocean,  from  the  plains  his  waves  had  late 
To  desolation  swept,  retired  in  pride, 
Exulting  in  the  glory  of  his  might, 
And  seemed  to  mock  the  ruin  he  had  wrought. 

As  some  fierce  comet  of  tremendous  size, 
To  which  the  stars  did  reverence,  as  it  passed, 
So  he  through  learning  and  through  fancy  took 
His  flight  sublime,  and  on  the  loftiest  top 
Of  Fame's  dread  mountain  sat ;  not  soiled  and  worn, 
As  if  he  from  the  earth  had  labored  up ; 
But  as  some  bird  of  heavenly  plumage  fair, 
He  looked,  which  down  from  higher  regions  came, 
And  perched  it  there,  to  see  what  lay  beneath. 

The  nations  gazed,  and  wondered  much,  and  praised. 
Critics  before  him  fell  in  humble  plight, 
Confounded  fell,  and  made  debasing  signs 
To  catch  his  eye,  and  stretched,  and  swelled  themselves 
To  bursting  nigh,  to  utter  bulky  words 
Of  admiration  vast :  and  many,  too, 
Many  that  aimed  to  imitate  his  flight, 
With  weaker  wing,  unearthly  fluttering  made, 
And  gave  abundant  sport  to  after  days. 

Great  man !  the  nations  gazed,  and  wondered  much, 
And  praised ;  and  many  called  his  evil  good. 


BOOK  rv.  261 

Wits  wrote  in  favor  of  his  wickedness, 

And  kings  to  do  him  honor  took  delight. 

Thus,  full  of  titles,  flattery,  honor,  fame, 

Beyond  desire,  beyond  ambition,  full, 

He  died.     He  died  of  what  ?  Of  wretchedness  ;— 

Drank  every  cup  of  joy,  heard  every  trump 

Of  fame,  drank  early,  deeply  drank,  drank  draughts 

That  common  millions  might  have  quenched ;   then 

died 

Of  thirst,  because  there  was  no  more  to  drink. 
His  goddess,  Nature,  wooed,  embraced,  enjoyed, 
Fell  from  his  arms,  abhorred  ;  his  passions  died, 
Died,  all  but  dreary,  solitary  Pride  ; 
And  all  his  sympathies  in  being  died. 
As  some  ill- guided  bark,  well  built  and  tall, 
"Which  angry  tides  cast  out  on  desert  shore, 
And  then,  retiring,  left  it  there  to  rot 
And  moulder  in  the  winds  and  rains  of  heaven ; 
So  he,  cut  from  the  sympathies  of  life, 
And  cast  ashore  from  pleasure's  boisterous  surge, 
A  wandering,  weary,  worn,  and  wretched  thing, 
Scorched,  and  desolate,  and  blasted  soul, 
A  gloomy  wilderness  of  dying  thought, — 
Repined,  and  groaned,  and  withered  from  the  earth 
His  groanings  filled  the  land,  his  numbers  filled ; 
And  yet  he  seemed  ashamed  to  groan  ; — Poor  man- 
Ashamed  to  ask,  and  yet  he  needed  help. 

Proof  this,  beyond  all  lingering  of  doubt, 
That  not  \vith  natural  or  mental  wealth, 
Was  God  delighted,  or  his  peace  secured ; 
That  not  in  natural  or  mental  wealth, 
Was  human  happiness  or  grandeur  found. 
Attempt  how  monstrous,  and  how  surely  vain  ! 
With  things  of  earthly  sort,  with  aught  but  God, 
With  aught  but  moral  excellence,  truth  and  love, 


THE   COUKSE   OP   TOUU 

To  satisfy  and  fill  the  immortal  soul  i 

Attempt,  vain  inconceivably  !  attempt 

To  satisfy  the  Ocean  with  a  drop, 

To  marry  Immortality  to  Death, 

And  -with  the  unsubstantial  Shade  of  Time. 

To  fill  the  embrace  of  all  eternity  1 


COURSE     OF     TIME. 

BOOK  V. 


ANALYSIS  OF  BOOK  V. 


In  this  Book  the  Bard  sketches  the  «  Joys  of  Time."  Whether 
happiness  or  misery  preponderated,  and  where  happiness 
might  be  found,  were  subjects  of  debate  among  men.  True 
happiness  had  no  exclusive  locality;  bit  was  within  the  reach 
of  all.  She  always  went  in  company  with  duty. 

Among  the  numerous  contributions  to  this  happiness  were  the 
joys  of  childhood,  the  joys  of  maternal  attention,  the  joys  of 
youthful  love,  the  joys  of  friendship  The  study  of  nature,  and 
contemplation  of  earth's  scenery,  also  afforded  their  joys.  Joys 
were  felt  in  anticipations  of  the  future ;  in  recollections  of  the 
past ;  in  repose  after  labor ;  even  in  grief. 

From  these  sources  all  men  experienced  joy  ;  but  the  pious  man 
shared  the  highest  degree. 

A.nd  finally,  in  earth's  history,  there  came  a  period  when  general 
joy  pervaded  it.  This  was  the  "  thousand  years"  of  Messiah's 
reign,  foretold  by  the  prophets,  preceded  by  a  terrible  conte* 
between  the  opposing  powers  of  Truth  and  Error. 


THX 

COURS  E     OF     TIME. 
BOOK    V. 

PRAISE  God,  ye  servants  of  the  Lord !  praise  God, 
Ye  angels  strong  !  praise  God,  ye  sons  of  men ! 
Praise  him  who  made,  and  who  redeemed  your  souls 
Who  gave  you  hope,  reflection,  reason,  will ; 
Minds  that  can  pierce  eternity  remote, 
And  live  at  once  on  future,  present,  past ; 
Can  speculate  on  systems  yet  to  make, 
And  back  recoil  on  ancient  days  of  Time, 
Of  Time,  soon  past,  soon  lost  among  the  shades 
Of  buried  years.     Not  so  the  actions  done 
In  Time,  the  deeds  of  reasonable  men. 
As  if  engraven  with  pen  of  iron  grain, 
And  laid  in  flinty  rock,  they  stand,  unchanged, 
Written  on  the  various  pages  of  the  past ; 
If  good,  in  rosy  characters  of  love  ; 
If  bad,  in  letters  of  vindictive  fire. 

God  may  forgive,  but  cannot  blot  them  out. 
Systems  begin  and  end,  Eternity 
Rolls  on  his  endless  years,  and  men,  absolved 
By  mercy  from  the  consequence,  forget 
The  evil  deed,  and  God  imputes  it  not; 
But  neither  systems  ending  nor  begun, 
Eternity  that  rolls  his  endless  years, 
23 


266  THE   COURSE   OF  TIME. 

Nor  men  absolved,  and  sanctified,  and  washed 
By  mercy  from  the  consequence,  nor  yet 
Forgetfulness,  nor  God  imputing  not, 
Can  wash  the  guilty  deed,  once  done,  from  out 
The  faithful  annals  of  the  past :  who  reads, 
And  many  read,  there  finds  it,  as  it  was, 
And  is,  and  shall  for  ever  be, — a  dark, 
Unnatural,  and  loathly  moral  spot. 

The  span  of  Time  was  short,  indeed ;  and  now 
Three-fourths  were  past,  the  last  begun,  and  on 
Careering  to  its  close,  which  soon  we  sing. 
But  first  our  promise  we  redeem,  to  tell 
The  joys  of  Time,  her  joys  of  native  growth ; 
And  briefly  must,  what  longer  tale  deserves. 

Wake,    dear    remembrances  !     wake,    childhood- 
days  ! 
Loves,  friendships,  wake  !  and  wake,  thou  morn  and 

even  ! 

Sun  !  with  thy  orient  locks  ;  night,  moon,  and  stars  I 
And  thou,  celestial  bow  !  and  all  ye  woods, 
And  hills,  and  vales,  first  trod  in  dawning  life, 
And  hours  of  holy  musing,  wake  !  wake,  earth 
And,  smiling  to  remembrance,  come,  and  bring, 
For  thou  canst  bring,  meet  argument  for  song 
Of  heavenly  harp,  meet  hearing  for  the  ear 
Of  heavenly  auditor,  exalted  high. 

God  gave  much  peace  on  earth,  much  holy  joy; 
Oped  fountains  of  perennial  spring,  whence  flowed 
Abundant  happiness  to  all  who  wished 
To  drink  ;  not  perfect  bliss  ; — that  dwells  with  us, 
Beneath  the  eyelids  of  the  Eternal  One, 
And  sits  at  his  right  hand  alone  ; — but  such 
As  well  deserved  the  name,  abundant  joy ; 


BOOK    T.  267 

Pleasures,  on  which  the  memory  of  saints 
Of  highest  glory,  still  delights  to  dwell. 

It  was,  we  own,  subject  of  much  debate, 
And  worthy  men  stood  on  opposing  sides, 
Whether  the  cup  of  mortal  life  had  more 
Of  sour  or  sweet.    Vain  question  this,  when  wkcd 
In  general  terms,  and  worthy  to  be  left 
Unsolved.     If  most  was  sour,  the  drinker,  not 
The  cup,  we  blame.     Each  in  himself  the  means 
Possessed  to  turn  the  bitter  sweet,  the  sweet 
To  bitter.     Hence,  from  out  the  self-same  fount, 
One  nectar  drank,  another  draughts  of  gall. 
Hence,  from  the  self-same  quarter  of  the  sky, 
One  saw  ten  thousand  angels  look  and  smile  ; 
Another  saw  as  many  demons  frown. 
One  discord  heard,  where  harmony  inclined 
Another's  ear.     The  sweet  was  in  the  taste, 
The  beauty  in  the  eye,  and  in  the  ear 
The  melody ;  and  in  the  man, — for  God 
Necessity  of  sinning  laid  on  none, — 
To  form  the  taste,  to  purify  the  eye, 
And  tune  the  ear,  that  all  he  tasted,  saw, 
Or  heard,  might  be  harmonious,  sweet,  and  fair. 
Who  would,  might  groan ;   who  would,  might  sing 
for  joy. 

Nature  lamented  little.    Undevoured 
By  spurious  appetites,  she  found  enough, 
Where  least  was  found  ;  with  gleanings  satisfied, 
Or  crumbs,  that  from  the  hand  of  luxury  fell ; 
Yet  seldom  these  she  ate,  but  ate  the  bread 
Of  her  own  industry,  made  sweet  by  toil ; 
And  walked  in  robes  that  her  own  hand  had  spun ; 
And  slept  on  down  her  early  rising  bought. 
Frugal  and  diligent  in  business,  chaste 


2G8  THE   COURSE   OP   TIME. 

And  abstinent,  she  stored  for  helpless  age, 
And,  keeping  in  reserve  her  spring-day  health, 
And  dawning  relishes  of  life,  she  drank 
Her  evening  cup  with  excellent  appetite ; 
And  saw  her  eldest  sun  decline,  as  fair 
As  rose  her  earliest  morn,  and  pleased  as  well. 

"Whether  in  crowds  or  solitudes,  in  streets 
Or  shady  groves,  dwelt  Happiness,  it  seems 
In  vain  to  ask  ;  her  nature  makes  it  vain ; 
Though  poets  much,  and  hermits  talked,  and  sung 
Of  brooks,  and  crystal  founts,  and  weeping  dews, 
And  myrtle  bowers,  and  solitary  vales, 
And  with  the  nymph  made  assignations  there, 
And  wooed  her  with  the  love-sick  oaten  reed ; 
And  sages  too,  although  less  positive, 
Advised  their  sons  to  court  her  in  the  shade. 
Delirious  babble  all !  Was  happiness, 
Was  self- approving,  God-approving  joy, 
In  drops  of  dew,  however  pure  ?  in  gales, 
However  sweet  ?  in  wells,  however  clear  ? 
Or  groves,  however  thick  with  verdant  shade  ? 

True,  these  were  of  themselves  exceeding  fair : 
How  fair  at  morn  and  even  !  worthy  the  walk 
Of  loftiest  mind,  and  gave,  when  all  within 
Was  right,  a  feast  of  overflowing  bliss  ; 
But  were  the  occasion,  not  the  cause  of  joy. 
They  waked  the  native  fountains  of  the  soul, 
Which  slept  before  ;  and  stirred  the  holy  tides 
Of  feeling  up,  giving  the  heart  to  drink 
From  its  own  treasures  draughts  of  perfect  sweet. 

The  Christian  faith,  which  better  knew  the  hear* 
Of  man,  him  thither  sent  for  peace,  and  thus 
Declared  :  Who  finds  it,  let  him  find  it  there  ; 


BOOK  v.  269 

Who  finds  it  not,  for  ever  let  him  seek 

In  vain ;  'tis  God's  most  holy,  changeless  wilL 

True  Happiness  had  no  localities, 
No  tones  provincial,  no  peculiar  garb. 
"Where  Duty  went,  she  went,  with  Justice  went, 
And  went  with  Meekness,  Charity,  and  Love. 
Where'er  a  tear  was  dried,  a  wounded  heart 
Bound  up,  a  bruised  spirit  with  the  dew 
Of  sympathy  anointed,  or  a  pang 
Of  honest  suffering  soothed,  or  injury 
Kepeated  oft,  as  oft  by  love  forgiven  ; 
Where'er  an  evil  passion  was  subdued, 
Or  Virtue's  feeble  embers  fanned  ;  where'er 
A  sin  was  heartily  abjured,  and  left ; 
Where'er  a  pious  act  was  done,  or  breathed 
A  pious  prayer,  or  wished  a  pious  wish  ; 
There  was  a  high  and  holy  place,  a  spot 
Of  sacred  light,  a  most  religious  fane, 
Where  Happiness,  descending,  sat  and  smiled. 

But  these  apart,  in  sacred  memory  lives 
The  morn  of  life,  first  morn  of  endless  days, 
Most  joyful  morn  !  nor  yet  for  nought  the  joy. 
A  being  of  eternal  date  commenced, 
A  young  immortal  then  was  born  !  and  who 
Shall  tell  what  strange  variety  of  bliss 
Burst  on  the  infant  soul,  when  first  it  looked 
Abroad  on  God's  creation  fair,  and  saw 
The  glorious  earth  and  glorious  heaven,  and  face 
Of  man  sublime,  and  saw  all  new,  and  felt 
All    new  !    when    thought    awoke,    though    nevei 

more 
Io    sleep  !     when    first    it    saw,    heard,    reasoned, 

willed, 

And  triumphed  in  the  warmth  of  conscious  life  1 
23* 


270 


THE    COURSE   OF 


Nor  happy  only,  but  the  cause  of  joy, 
Which  those  who  never  tasted  always  mourned. 
What    tongue  ! — no    tongue  shall    tell   what    bliss 

o'erflowed 

The  mother's  tender  heart,  while  round  her  hung 
The  offspring  of  her  love,  and  lisped  her  name, 
As  living  jewels  dropped  unstained  from  heaven, 
That  made  her  fairer  far,  and  sweeter  seem, 
Than  every  ornament  of  costliest  hue  ! 
And  who  hath  not  been  ravished,  as  she  passed 
With  all  her  playful  band  of  little  ones, 
Like  Luna,  with  her  daughters  of  the  sky, 
Walking  in  matron  majesty  and  grace? 
All  who  had  hearts  here  pleasure  found :  and  oft 
Have  I,  when  tired  with  heavy  task, — for  tasks 
Were  heavy  in  the  world  below, — relaxed 
My  weary  thoughts  among  their  guiltless  sports, 
And  led  them  by  their  little  hands  a-field, 
And  watched  them  run  and  crop  the  tempting  flower, 
Which  oft,  unasked,  they  brought  me,  and  bestowed 
With  smiling  face,  that  waited  for  a  look 
Of  praise, — and  answered  curious  questions,  put 
In  much  simplicity,  but  ill  to  solve  ; 
And  heard  their  observations  strange  and  new, 
And  settled  whiles  their  little  quarrels,  soon 
Ending  in  peace,  and  soon  forgot  in  love. 
And  still  I  looked  upon  their  loveliness, 
And  sought  through  nature  for  similitudes 
Of  perfect  beauty,  innocence,  and  bliss, 
And  fairest  imagery  around  me  thronged ; 
Dew-drops  at  day-spring  on  a  seraph's  locks, 
Hoses  that  bathe  about  the  well  of  life, 
Young  Loves,  young  Hopes,  dancing  on  Morning'i 

cheek, 

Gems  leaping  in  the  coronet  of  Love  ! 
80  beautiful,  so  full  of  life,  they  seemed 


BOOK  v.  271 

As  made  entire  of  beams  of  angels'  e>es. 
Gay,  guileless,  sportive,  lovely,  little  things  ! 
Playing  around  the  den  of  Sorrow,  clad 
In  smiles,  believing  in  their  fairy  hopes, 
And  thinking  man  and  woman  true !  all  joy, 
Happy  all  day,  and  happy  all  the  night ! 

Hail,  holy  Love  !  thou  word  that  sums  all  bliss, 
Gives  and  receives  all  bliss,  fullest  when  most 
Thou  givest !  spring-head  of  all  felicity, 
Deepest  when  most  is  drawn !  emblem  of  God  ! 
Overflowing  most  when  greatest  numbers  drink  ! 
Essence  that  binds  the  uncreated  Three, 
Chain  that  unites  creation  to  its  Lord, 
Centre  to  which  all  being  gravitates, 
Eternal,  ever-growing,  happy  Love ! 
Enduring  all,  hoping,  forgiving  all ; 
Instead  of  law,  fulfilling  every  law  ; 
Entirely  blest,  because  thou  seek'st  no  more, 
Hopest  not,  nor  fear'st ;  but  on  the  present  livest, 
And  hold'st  perfection  smiling  in  thy  arms. 
Mysterious,  infinite,  exhaustless  Love  ! 
On  earth  mysterious,  and  mysterious  still 
In  heaven  !  sweet  chord  that  harmonizes  all 
The  harps  of  Paradise !  the  spring,  the  well, 
That  fills  the  bowl  and  banquet  of  the  sky  ! 

But  why  should  I  to  thee  of  Love  divine  ? 
Who  happy,  and  not  eloquent  of  Love? 
Who  holy,  and,  as  thou  art,  pure,  and  not 
A  temple  where  her  glory  ever  dwells, 
Where  burn  her  fires,  and  beams  her  perfect  eye  ? 

Kindred  to  this,  part  of  this  holy  flame, 
Was  youthful  love — the  sweetest  boon  of  Earth. 
Hail,  Love !  first  Love,  thou  word  that  sums  all  bliss, 


272  THE    COURSE   Of   TIME. 

The  sparkling  cream  of  all  Time's  blessedness, 

The  silken  down  of  happiness  complete ! 

Discerner  of  the  ripest  grapes  of  joy, 

She  gathered,  and  selected  with  her  hand, 

All  finest  relishes,  all  fairest  sights, 

All  rarest  odors,  all  divinest  sounds, 

All  thoughts,  all  feelings  dearest  to  the  soul ; 

And  brought  the  holy  mixture  home,  and  filled 

The  heart  with  all  superlatives  of  bliss  ! 

But,  who  would  that  expound,  which  words  transcends, 

Must  talk  in  vain.     Behold  a  meeting  scene 

Of  early  love,  and  thence  infer  its  worth. 

It  was  an  eve  of  Autumn's  holiest  mood. 
The  corn  fields  bathed  in  Cynthia's  silver  light, 
Stood  ready  for  the  reaper's  gathering  hand ; 
And  all  the  Winds  slept  soundly.     Nature  seemed, 
In  silent  contemplation,  to  adore 
Its  Maker.     Now  and  then,  the  aged  leaf 
Fell  from  its  fellows,  rustling  to  the  ground ; 
And,  as  it  fell,  bade  man  think  on  his  end. 
On  vale  and  lake,  on  wood  and  mountain  high, 
With  pensive  wing  outspread,  sat  heavenly  Thought, 
Conversing  with  itself.     Vesper  looked  forth, 
From  out  her  western  hermitage,  and  smiled ; 
And  up  the  east,  unclouded,  rode  the  Moon. 
With  all  her  Stars,  gazing  on  earth  intense, 
As  it  she  saw  some  wonder  walking  there. 

Such  was  the  night,  so  lovely,  still,  serene, 
When,  by  a  hermit  thorn  that  on  the  hill 
Had  seen  a  hundred  flowery  ages  pass, 
A  damsel  kneeled  to  offer  up  her  prayer, 
Her  prayer  nightly  offered,  nightly  heard. 
This  ancient  thorn  had  been  the  meeting  place 
Of  love,  before  his  country's  voice  had  called 


BOOK  v  273 

The  ardent  youth  to  fields  of  honor  far 

Beyond  the  wave :  and  hither  now  repaired, 

Nightly,  the  maid,  by  God's  all-seeing  eye 

Seen  only,  while  she  sought  this  boon  alone, 

"  Her  lover's  safety,  and  his  quick  return." 

In  holy,  humble  attitude  she  kneeled, 

And  to  her  bosom,  fair  as  moonbeam,  pressed 

One  hand,  the  other  lifted  up  to  heaven. 

Her  eye,  upturned,  bright  as  the  star  of  morn, 

As  violet  meek,  excessive  ardor  streamed, 

Wafting  away  her  earnest  heart  to  God. 

Her  voice,  scarce  uttered,  soft  as  Zephyr  sighs 

On  morning  lily's  cheek,  though  soft  and  low, 

Yet  heard  in  heaven,  heard  at  the  mercy-seat. 

A  tear-drop  wandered  on  her  lovely  face; 

It  was  a  tear  of  faith  and  holy  fear, 

Pure  as  the  drops  that  hang  at  dawning-time, 

On  yonder  willows  by  the  stream  of  life. 

On  her  the  Moon  looked  steadfastly :  the  Stars, 

That  circle  nightly  round  the  eternal  Throne, 

Glanced  down,  well  pleased ;  and  Everlasting  Lov* 

Gave  gracious  audience  to  her  prayer  sincere. 

Oh,  had  her  lover  seen  her  thus  alone, 
Thus  holy,  wrestling  thus,  and  all  for  him  ! 
Nor  did  he  not :  for  oft-times  Providence, 
With  unexpected  joy  the  fervent  prayer 
Of  faith  surprised.     Returned  from  long  delay, 
With  glory  crowned  of  righteous  actions  won, 
Die  sacred  thorn,  to  memory  dear,  first  sought 
The  youth,  and  found  it  at  the  happy  hour, 
Just  when  the  damsel  kneeled  herself  to  pray. 
Wrapped  in  devotion,  pleading  with  her  God, 
She  saw  him  not,  heard  not  his  foot  approach. 
All  holy  images  seemed  too  impure 
To  emblem  her  he  saw.     A  seraph  kneeled, 


274  THE   COURSE   OP  TIME. 

Beseeching  for  his  ward,  before  the  Throne, 
Seemed  fittest,  pleased  him  best.      Sweet  was  the 

thought ! 

But  sweeter  still  the  kind  remembrance  came, 
That  she  was  flesh  and  blood,  formed  for  himself 
The  plighted  partner  of  his  future  life. 
And  as  they  met,  embraced,  and  sat,  embowered, 
In  woody  chambers  of  the  starry  night, 
Spirits  of  love  about  them  ministered, 
And  God,  approving,  blest  the  holy  joy  ! 

Nor  unremembered  in  the  hour  when  friends 
Met.     Friends,  but  few  on  earth,  and  therefore  dear, 
Sought  oft,  and  sought  almost  as  oft  in  vain ; 
Yet  always  sought,  so  native  to  the  heart, 
So  much  desired,  and  coveted  by  all. 
Nor  wonder  thou — thou  wonderest  not  nor  need'st. 
Much  beautiful,  and  excellent,  and  fair, 
Was  seen  beneath  the  sun ;  but  naught  was  seen 
More  beautiful,  or  excellent,  or  fair, 
Than  face  of  faithful  friend,  fairest  when  seen 
In  darkest  day :  and  many  sounds  were  sweet, 
Most  ravishing  and  pleasant  to  the  ear ; 
But  sweeter  none  than  voice  of  faithful  friend, 
Sweet  always,  sweetest,  heard  in  loudest  storm. 
Some  I  remember,  and  will  ne'er  forget ; 
My  early  friends,  friends  of  my  evil  day; 
Friends  in  my  mirth,  friends  in  my  misery  too ; 
Friends  given  by  God  in  mercy  and  in  love; 
My  counsellors,  my  comforters,  and  guides  ; 
My  joy  in  grief,  my  second  bliss  in  joy ; 
Companions  of  my  young  desires ;  in  doubt, 
My  oracles,  my  wings  in  high  pursuit. 
Oh,  I  remember,  and  will  ne'er  forget, 
Our  meeting  spots,  our  chosen,  sacred  hours, 
Our  burning  words  that  uttered  all  the  soul, 


BOOK  v,  275 

Our  faces  beaming  with  unearthly  love  ; 

Sorrow  with  sorrow  sighing,  hope  with  hope 

Exulting,  heart  embracing  heart  entire. 

As  birds  of  social  feather  helping  each 

His  fellow's  flight,  we  soared  into  the  skies, 

And  cast  the  clouds  beneath  our  feet,  and  Earth 

With  all  her  tardy,  leaden-footed  Cares, 

And  talked  the  speech  and  ate  the  food  of  heaven  ! 

These  I  remember,  these  selectest  men, 

And  would  their  names  record ;  but  what  avails 

My  mention  of  their  name  ?    Before  the  Throne 

They  stand  illustrious  'mong  the  loudest  harps, 

And  will  receive  thee  glad,  my  friend  and  theirs. 

For  all  are  friends  in  heaven,  all  faithful  friends ! 

And  many  friendships,  in  the  days  of  Time 

Begun,  are  lasting  here,  and  growing  still ; 

So  grows  ours  evermore,  both  theirs  and  mine. 

Nor  is  the  hour  of  lonely  walk  forgot, 
In  the  wide  desert,  where  the  view  was  large. 
Pleasant  were  many  scenes,  but  most  to  me 
The  solitude  of  vast  extent,  untouched 
By  hand  of  art,  where  Nature  sowed,  herself, 
And  reaped  her  crops;    whose  garments  were  ths 

clouds, 
Whose  minstrels,  brooks ;  whose  lamps,  the  moon  and 

stars; 

Whose  organ-choir,  the  voice  of  many  waters ; 
Whose    banquets,   morning    dews;     whose    heroes, 

storms ; 

Whose  warriors,  mighty  winds ;  whose  lovers,  flowers  ; 
Whose  orators,  the  thunderbolts  of  God ; 
Whose  palaces,  the  everlasting  hills ; 
Whose  ceiling,  heaven's  unfathomable  blue  : 
And  from  whose  rocky  turrets,  battled  high, 
Prospect  immense  spread  out  on  all  sides  round, 


276  THE   COURSE  OF  TIME. 

Lost  now  between  the  welkin  and  the  mam, 
Now  walled  with  hills  that  slept  above  the  storm. 

Most  fit  was  such  a  place  for  musing  men, 
Happiest  sometimes,  when  musing  without  aim. 
It  was,  indeed,  a  wondrous  sort  of  bliss 
The  lonely  bard  enjoyed,  when  forth  he  walked, 
TJnpurposed ;  stood,  and  knew  not  why ;  sat  down, 
And  knew  not  where  ;  arose,  and  knew  not  when ; 
Had  eyes,  and  saw  not ;  ears,  and  nothing  heard ; 
And  sought — sought  neither  heaven  nor  earth-— sough 

naught, 

Nor  meant  to  think  ;  but  ran,  meantime,  through  vast 
Of  visionary  things,  fairer  than  aught 
That  was  ;  and  saw  the  distant  tops  of  thoughts. 
Which  men  of  common  stature  never  saw, 
Greater  than  aught  that  largest  words  could  hold, 
Or  give  idea  of,  to  those  who  read. 
He  entered  in  to  Nature's  holy  place, 
Her  inner  chamber,  and  beheld  her  face 
Unveiled  ;  and  heard  unutterable  things, 
And  incommunicable  visions  saw  ; 
Things  then  unutterable,  and  visions  then 
Of  incommunicable  glory  bright ; 
But  by  the  lips  of  after  ages  formed 
To  words,  or  by  their  pencil  pictured  forth ; 
Who,  entering  farther  in,  beheld  again, 
And  heard  unspeakable  and  marvelous  things, 
Which  other  ages  in  their  turn  revealed, 
And  left  to  others,  greater  wonders  still. 

The  earth  abounded  much  in  silent  wastes; 
Nor  yet  is  heaven  without  its  solitudes, 
Else  incomplete  in  bliss,  whither  who  will 
May  oft  retire,  and  meditate  alone, 
Of  God,  redemption,  holiness,  and  love  ; 


BOOK  v.  277 

Nor  needs  to  fear  a  setting  sun,  or  haste 

Him  home  from  rainy  tempest  unforseen, 

Or,  sighing,  leave  his  thoughts  for  want  of  time. 

But  whatsoever  was  both  good  and  fair, 
And  highest  relish  of  enjoyment  gave, 
In  intellectual  exercise  was  found, 
When,  gazing  through  the  future,  present,  past, 
Inspired,   thought    linked  to   thought,    harmonious 

flowed 

In  poetry— the  loftiest  mood  of  mind ; 
Or  when  philosophy  the  reason  led 
Deep  through  the  outward  circumstance  of  things; 
And  saw  the  master-wheels  of  Nature  move; 
And  travelled  far  along  the  endless  line 
Of  certain  and  of  probable  ;  and  made, 
At  every  step,  a  new  discovery, 
That  gave  the  soul  sweet  sense  of  larger  room 
High  these  pursuits,  and  sooner  to  be  named, 
Deserved  ;  at  present,  only  named,  again 
To  be  resumed,  and  praised  in  longer  verse. 

Abundant  and  diversified  above 
All  number,  were  the  sources  of  delight ; 
As  infinite  as  were  the  lips  that  drank  ; 
And  to  the  pure,  all  innocent  and  pure  ; 
The  simplest  still  to  wisest  men  the  best. 
One  made  acquaintanceship  with  plants  and  flowers, 
And  happy  grew  in  telling  all  their  names  ; 
One  classed  the  quadrupeds  ;  a  third,  the  fowls  ; 
Another  found  in  minerals  his  joy  : 
And  I  have  seen  a  man,  a  worthy  man, 
In  happy  mood  conversing  with  a  fly  ; 
And  as  he,  through  his  glass,  made  by  himself, 
Beheld  its  wondrous  eye  and  plumage  fine, 
From  leaping  scarce  he  kept,  for  perfect  joy. 
24 


278  THE   COtRSE   OF  TIME. 

And  from  my  path  I  with  my  friend  have  turned, 
A.  man  of  excellent  mind  and  excellent  heart, 
And  climbed  the  neighboring  hill,  with  arduous  step, 
Fetching  from  distant  cairn,  or  from  the  earth 
Digging,  with  labor  sure,  the  ponderous  stone. 
Which,  having  carried  to  the  highest  top, 
We  downward  rolled  ;  and  as  it  strove,  at  first, 
With  obstacles  that  seemed  to  match  its  force, 
With  feeble,  crooked  motion  to  and  fro 
Wavering,  he  looked  with  interest  most  intense, 
And  prayed  almost ;  and  as  it  gathered  strength, 
And  straightened  the  current  of  its  furious  flow, 
Exulting  in  the  swiftness  of  its  course, 
And,  rising  now  with  rainbow-bound  immense, 
Leaped  down  careering  o'er  the  subject  plain, 
He  clapped  his  hands  in  sign  of  boundless  bliss, 
And  laughed  and  talked,  well  paid  for  all  his  toil : 
And  when  at  night  the  story  was  rehearsed, 
Uncommon  glory  kindled  in  his  eye. 

And  there  were,  too, — Harp  !  lift  thy  voice  on  high, 
And  run  in  rapid  numbers  o'er  the  face 
Of  Nature's  scenery, — and  there  were  day 
And  night,  and  rising  suns  and  setting  suns, 
And  clouds  that  seemed  like  chariots  of  saints, 
By  fiery  coursers  drawn,  as  brightly  hued 
As  if  the  glorious,  bushy,  golden  locks 
Of  thousand  cherubim  had  been  shorn  oft7, 
And  on  the  temples  hung  of  Morn  and  Even. 
And   there   were   moons,   and   stars,    and    darkncs* 

streaked 

With  light;  and  voice  and  tempest  heard  secure, 
And  there  were  seasons  coming  evermore, 
And  going  still,  all  fair,  and  always  new, 
With  bloom,  and  fruit,  and  fields  of  hoary  grain. 
And  there  were  hills  of  flock,  and  groves  of  song, 


27* 


Ajid  flowery  streams,  and  garden  walks  embowered, 

Where,  side  by  side,  the  rose  and  lily  bloomed ; 

And  sacred  founts,  wild  harps,  and  moonlight  glens, 

And  forests  vast,  fair  lawns,  and  lonely  oaks, 

And  little  willows,  sipping  at  the  brook ; 

Old  wizard  haunts,  and  dancing  seats  of  mirth; 

Gay  festive  bowers,  and  palaces  in  dust; 

Dark  owlet  nooks,  and  caves,  and  battled  rocks; 

And  winding  valleys,  roofed  with  pendent  shade ; 

And  tall  and  perilous  cliffs,  that  overlooked 

The  breadth  of  Ocean,  sleeping  on  his  waves ; 

Sounds,  sights,  smells,  tastes,  the  heaven  and  earth, 

profuse 

In  endless  sweets,  above  all  praise  of  song  : 
For  not  to  use  alone  did  Providence 
Abound;  but  large  example  gave  to  man 
Of  grace,  and  ornament,  and  splendor  rich, 
Suited  abundantly  to  every  taste, 
In  bird,  beast,  fish,  winged  and  creeping  thing, 
In  herb  and  flower,  and  in  the  restless  change, 
Which,  on  the  many-colored  seasons,  made 
The  annual  circuit  of  the  fruitful  earth. 

Nor  do  I  aught  of  earthly  sort  remember, — 
If  partial  feeling  to  my  native  place 
Lead  not  my  lyre  astray, — of  fairer  view, 
And  comelier  walk,  than  the  blue  mountain-paths, 
And  snowy  cliffs  of  Albion  renowned ; 
Albion,  an  isle  long  blessed  with  gracious  laws, 
And  gracious  kings,  and  favored  much  of  Heaven, 
Though  yielding  oft  penurious  gratitude. 
Nor  do  I  of  that  isle  remember  aught 
Of  prospect  more  sublime  and  beautiful, 
Than  Scotia's  northern  battlement  of  hills, 
Which  first  I  from  my  father's  house  beheld, 
At  dawn  of  life  ;  beloved  in  memory  still, 


280  THE    COURSE   OF   TIME. 

And  standard  still  of  rural  imagery. 
What  most  resembles  them,  the  fairest  seems, 
And  stirs  the  eldest  sentiments  of  bliss ; 
And,  pictured  on  the  tablet  of  my  heart, 
Their  distant  shapes  eternally  remain, 
And  in  my  dreams  their  cloudy  tops  arise. 

Much  of  my  native  scenery  appears, 
And  presses  forward  to  be  in  my  song ; 
But  must  not  now,  for  much  behind  awaits 
Of  higher  note.     Four  trees  I  pass  not  by, 
Which  o'er  our  house  their  evening  shadow  threw  ; 
Three  ash,  and  one  of  elm.     Tall  trees  they  were, 
And  old,  and  had  been  old  a  century 
Before  my  day.     None  living  could  say  aught 
About  their  youth  ;  but  they  were  goodly  trees 
And  oft  I  wondered, — as  I  sat  and  thought 
Beneath  their  summer  shade,  or,  in  the  night 
Of  winter,  heard  the  spirits  of  the  wind 
Growling  among  their  boughs, — how  they  had  grown 
So  high,  in  such  a  rough  tempestuous  place ; 
And  when  a  hapless  branch,  torn  by  the  blast, 
Fell  down,  I  mourned,  as  if  a  friend  had  fallen. 

These  I  distinctly  hold  in  memory  still, 
And  all  the  desert  scenery  around. 
Nor  strange,  that  recollection  there  shonld  dwell, 
Where  first  I  heard  of  God's  redeeming  love ; 
First  felt  and  reasoned,  loved  and  was  beloved  ; 
And  first  awoke  the  harp  to  holy  song. 

To  hoar  and  green  there  was  enough  of  joy. 
Hopes,  friendships,  charities,  and  warm  pursuit, 
Gave  comfortable  flow  to  youthful  blood. 
And  there  were  old  remembrances  of  days, 
When,  on  the  glittering  dews  of  orient  life, 


BOOK    V. 


281 


Shone  sunshine  hopes,  unfailed,  unperjured,  then ; 

And  there  were  childish  sports,  and  school-boy  feats 

And  school-boy  spots,  and  earnest  vo^s  of  love, 

Uttered,  when  passion's  boisterous  tide  ran  high, 

Sincerely  uttered,  though  but  seldom  kept : 

And  there  were  angel  looks,  and  sacred  hours 

Of  rapture,  hours  that  in  a  moment  passed, 

And  yet  were  wished  to  last  for  evermore  ; 

And  venturous  exploits,  and  hardy  deeds, 

And  bargains  shrewd,  achieved  in  manhood's  priiie  ; 

And  thousand  recollections,  gay  and  sweet, 

Which,  as  the  old  and  venerable  man 

Approached  the  grave,  around-him,  smiling,  flocked. 

And  breathed  new  ardor  through  his  ebbing  veins, 

And  touched  his  lips  with  endless  eloquence, 

And  cheered  and  much  refreshed  his  withered  heart 

Indeed,  each  thing  remembered,  all  but  guilt, 
Was  pleasant,  and  a  constant  source  of  joy. 
Nor  lived  the  old  on  memory  alone. 
He  in  his  children  lived  a  second  life, 
With  them  again  took  root,  sprang  with  their  hopes, 
Entered  into  their  schemes,  partook  their  fears, 
Laughed  in  their  mirth,  and  in  their  gain  grew  rich. 
And  sometimes  on  the  eldest  cheek  was  seen 
A  smile  as  hearty  as  on  face  of  youth, 
That  saw  in  prospect  sunny  hopes  invite, 
Hope  s  pleasures,  sung  to  harp  of  sweetest  note, 
Harp,  heard  with  rapture  on  Britannia's  hills, 
With  rapture  heard  by  me,  in  morn  of  life. 

Nor  small  the  joy  of  rest  to  mortal  men, 
Rest  after  labor,  sleep  approaching  soft, 
And  wrapping  all  the  weary  faculties 
In  sweet  repose.     Then  Fancy,  unrestrained 
By  sense  or  judgment,  strange  confusion  made 
24* 


282  THE    COURSE   OF   TIME. 

Of  future,  present,  past,  combining  things 

Unseemly,  things  unsociable  in  nature, 

In  most  absurd  communion,  laughable, 

Though  sometimes  vexing  sore  the  slumbering  soul. 

Sporting  at  will,  she,  through  her  airy  halls, 

With  moonbeams  paved,  and  canopied  with  stars, 

And  tapestried  with  marvelous  imagery, 

And  shapes  of  glory,  infinitely  fair, 

Moving  and  mixing  in  most  wondrous  dance, — 

Fantastically  walked,  but  pleased  so  well, 

That  ill  she  liked  the  judgment's  voice  severe, 

"Which  called  her  home  when  noisy  morn  awoke. 

And  oft  she  sprang  beyond  the  bounds  of  Time, 

On  her  swift  pinion  lifting  up  the  souls 

Of  righteous  men,  on  high  to  God  and  heaven, 

Where  they  beheld  unutterable  things  ; 

And  heard  the  glorious  music  of  the  blessed, 

Circling  the  throne  of  the  Eternal  Three ; 

And,  with  the  spirits  unincarnate,  took 

Celestial  pastime,  on  the  hills  of  God, 

Forgetful  of  the  gloomy  pass  between. 

Some  dreams  were  useless,  moved  by  turbid  course 
Of  animal  disorder ;  not  so  all. 
Deep  moral  lessons  some  impressed,  that  naught 
Could  afterwards  deface  :  and  oft  in  dreams, 
The  master  passion  of  the  soul  displayed 
His  huge  deformity,  concealed  by  day, 
Warning  the  sleeper  to  beware,  awake  : 
And  oft  in  dreams,  the  reprobate  and  vile, 
Unpardonable  sinner, — as  he  seemed 
Toppling  upon  the  perilous  edge  of  hell, — 
In  dreadful  apparition,  saw  before 
His  visions  pass  the  shadows  of  the  damned ; 
And  saw  the  glare  of  hollow,  cursed  eyes 
Spring  from  the  skirts  of  the  infernal  night ; 


BOOK.  v.  283 

And  saw  the  souls  of  wicked  men,  new  dead, 

By  devils  hearsed  into  the  fiery  gulf; 

And  heard  the  burning  of  the  endless  flames ; 

And  heard  the  weltering  of  the  waves  of  wrath; 

And  sometimes,  too,  before  his  fancy,  passed 

The  Worm  that  never  dies,  writhing  its  folds 

In  hideous  sort,  and  with  eternal  Death 

Held  horrid  colloquy,  giving  the  wretch 

Unwelcome  earnest  of  the  wo  to  come. 

But  these  we  leave,  as  unbefitting  song, 

That  promised  happy  narrative  of  joy. 

But  what,  of  all  the  joys  of  earth,  was  most 
Of  native  growth,  most  proper  to  the  soil, 
Not  elsewhere  known,  in  worlds  that  never  fell, 
AVas  joy  that  sprung  from  disappointed  wo. 
The  joy  in  grief,  the  pleasure  after  pain, 
Fears  turned  to  hopes,  meetings  expected  not, 
Deliverances  from  dangerous  attitudes, 
Better  for  worse,  and  best  sometimes  for  worst, 

And  all  the  seeming  ill  ending  in  good, 

A  sort  of  happiness  composed,  which  none 
Has  had  experience  of,  but  mortal  man ; 
Yet  not  to  be  despised.     Look  back,  and  one 
Behold,  who  would  not  give  her  tear  for  all 
The  smiles  that  dance  about  the  cheek  of  Mirth. 

Among  the  tombs  she  walks  at  noon  of  night, 
In  miserable  garb  of  widowhood. 
Observe  her  yonder,  sickly,  pale,  and  sad, 
Bending  her  wasted  body  o'er  the  grave 
Of  him  who  was  the  husband  of  her  youth. 
The  moonbeams,  trembling  through  these  ancien; 

yews, 

That  stand  like  ranks  of  mourners  round  the  bed 
Of  death,  fall  dismally  upon  her  face, 


284  THE    COURSE   OF  TIME. 

Her  little,  hollow,  withered  face,  almost 

Invisible,  so  worn  away  with  wo. 

The  tread  of  hasty  foot,  passing  so  late, 

Disturbs  her  not ;  nor  yet  the  roar  of  mirth, 

From  neighboring  revelry  ascending  loud. 

She  hears,  sees  naught,  fears  naught.     One  thought 

alone 

Fills  all  her  heart  and  soul,  half  hoping,  half 
Remembering,  sad,  unutterable  thought ! 
Uttered  by  silence  and  by  tears  alone. 
Sweet  tears  !  the  awful  language,  eloquent 
Of  infinite  affection,  far  too  big 
For  words.     She  sheds  not  many  now.     That  grass, 
Which  springs  so  rankly  o'er  the  dead,  has  drunk 
Already  many  showers  of  grief;  a  drop 
V  V  two  are  all  that  now  remain  behind, 

'   from  her  eye  that  darts  strange  fiery  beams, 
A         flry  intervals,  drip  down  her  cheek, 
Falhnfe    lost  mournfully  from  bone  to  bone. 
But  yet  she  wants  not  tears.     That  babe,  that  hangs 
Upon  her  breast,  that  babe  that  never  saw 
Its  father — he  was  dead  before  its  birth — 
Helps  her  to  weep,  weeping  before  its  time, 
Taught  sorrow  by  the  mother's  melting  voice, 
Repeating  oft  the  father's  sacred  name. 
Be  not  surprised  at  this  expense  of  wo ! 
The  man  she  mourns  was  all  she  called  her  own, 
The  music  of  her  ear,  light  of  her  eye, 
Desire  of  all  her  heart,  her  hope,  her  fear, 
The  element  in  which  her  passions  lived, 
Dead  now,  or  dying  all:  nor  long  shall  she 
Visit  that  place  of  skulls.     Night  after  night, 
She  wears  herself  away.     The  moonbeam,  now, 
That  falls  upon  her  unsubstantial  frame, 
Scarce  finds  obstruction  ;  and  upon  her  bones, 
Barren  as  leafless  boughs  in  winter -time, 


BOOK    V.  28d 

MI 

Her  infant  fasten*  his  little  hands,  as  oft. 

Forgetful,  she  leaves  him  a  while  unheld. 

But,  look,  she  passes  not  away  in  gloom. 

A  light  from  far  illumes  her  face,  a  light 

That  comes  beyond  the  moon,  beyond  the  sun — 

The  light  of  truth  divine,  the  glorious  hope 

Of  resurrection  at  the  promised  morn, 

And  meetings  then  which  ne'er  shall  part  again. 

Indulge  another  note  of  kindred  tone, 
Where  grief  was  mixed  with  melancholy  joy. 

Our  sighs  were  numerous,  and  profuse  our  tears, 
For  she,  we  lost,  was  lovely,  and  we  loved 
Her  much.     Fresh  in  our  memory,  as  fresh 
As  yesterday,  is  yet  the  day  she  died. 
It  was  an  April  day ;  and  blithely  all 
The  youth  of  nature  leaped  beneath  the  sun, 
And  promised  glorious  manhood ;  and  our  hearts 
Were  glad,  and  round  them  danced  the  lightsome 

blood, 

In  healthy  merriment,  when  tidings  came, 
A  child  was  born  :  and  tidings  came  again, 
That  she  who  gave  it  birth  was  sick  to  death. 
So  swift  trode  sorrow  on  the  heels  of  joy  ! 
We  gathered  round  her  bed,  and  bent  our  knees 
In  fervent  supplication  to  the  Throne 
Of  Mercy,  and  perfumed  our  prayers  with  sighs 
Sincere,  and  penitential  tears,  and  looks 
Of  self-abasement ;  but  we  sought  to  stay 
An  angel  on  the  earth,  a  spirit  ripe 
For  heaven ;  and  Mercy,  in  her  love,  refused, 
Most  merciful,  as  oft,  when  seeming  least ! 
Most  gracious  when  she  seemed  the  most  to  frown ! 
The  room  I  well  remember,  and  the  bed 
On  which  she  lay,  and  all  the  faces,  too, 


286  THE   COURSE   OP   TIME. 

That  crowded  dark  and  mournfully  around. 

Her  father  there  and  mother,  bending,  stood ; 

And  down  their  aged  cheeks  fell  many  drop? 

Of  bitterness.     Her  husband,  too,  was  there, 

And  brothers,  and  they  wept ;  her  sisters,  too, 

Did  weep  and  sorrow,  comfortless  ;  and  I, 

Too,  wept,  though  not  to  weeping  given  ;  and  all 

Within  the  house  was  dolorous  and  sad. 

This  I  remember  well ;  but  better  still, 

I  do  remember,  and  will  ne'er  forget, 

The  dying  eye !     That  eye  alone  was  bright, 

And  brighter  grew,  as  nearer  death  approached. 

As  I  have  seen  the  gentle  little  flower 

Look  fairest  in  the  silver  beam  which  fell, 

Reflected  from  the  thunder-cloud  that  soon 

Came  down,  and  o'er  the  desert  scattered  far 

And  wide  its  loveliness.     She  made  a  sign 

To  bring  her  babe — 't  was  brought,  and  by  her  placed 

She  looked  upon  its  face  that  neither  smiled 

Nor  wept,  nor  knew  who  gazed  upon 't ;  and  laid 

Her  hand  upon  its  little  breast,  and  sought 

For  it,  with  look  that  seemed  to  penetrate 

The  heavens,  unutterable  blessings,  such 

As  God  to  dying  parents  only  granted, 

For  infants  left  behind  them  in  the  world. 

"  God  keep  my  child  ! "  we  heard  her  say,  and  heart' 

No  more.     The  Angel  of  the  Covenant 

"Was  come,  and,  faithful  to  his  promise,  stood 

Prepared  to  walk  with  her  through  death's  dark  vaK 

And  now  her  eyes  grew  bright,  and  brighter  still, 

Too  bright  for  ours  to  look  upon,  suffused 

With  many  tears,  and  closed  without  a  cloud. 

They  set  as  sets  the  morning  star,  which  goes 

Not  down  behind  the  darkened  west,  nor  liide* 

Obscured  among  the  tempests  of  the  sky, 

But  melts  away  into  the  light  of  heaven. 


287 


Loves,  friendships,  hopes,  and  dear  remembrances, 
The  kind  embracings  of  the  heart,  and  hours 
Of  happy  thought,  and  smiles  coming  to  tears, 
And  glories  of  the  heaven  and  starry  cope 
Above,  and  glories  of  the  earth  beneath, — 
These  were  the  rays  that  wandered  through  the  gloom 
Of  mortal  life  ;  wells  of  the  wilderness, 
Redeeming  features  in  the  face  of  Time, 
Sweet  drops,  that  made  the  mixed  cup  of  Earth 
A  palatable  draught — too  bitter  else. 

About  the  joys  and  pleasures  of  the  world, 
This  question  was  not  seldom  in  debate  : 
Whether  the  righteous  man,  or  sinner,  had 
The  greatest  share,  and  relished  them  the  most  ? 
Truth  gives  the  answer  thus,  gives  it  distinct, 
Nor  needs  to  reason  long  :  The  righteous  man. 
For  what  was  he  denied  of  earthly  growth, 
Worthy  the  name  of  good  ?  Truth  answers,  Naught 
Had  he  not  appetites,  and  sense,  and  will  ? 
Might  he  not  eat,  if  Providence  allowed, 
The  finest  of  the  wheat  ?     Might  he  not  drink 
The  choicest  wine  ?     True,  he  was  temperate ; 
But,  then,  was  temperance  a  foe  to  peace  ? 
Might  he  not  rise  and  clothe  himself  in  gold  ? 
Ascend,  and  stand  in  palaces  of  kings  ? 
True,  he  was  honest  still,  and  charitable  : 
Were,  then,  these  virtues  foes  to  human  peace  ? 
Might  he  not  do  exploits,  and  gain  a  name  ? 
Most  true,  he  trode  not  down  a  fellow's  right, 
Nor  walked  up  to  a  throne  on  skulls  of  men  : 
Were  justice,  then,  and  mercy,  foes  to  peace? 
Had  he  not  friendships,  loves,  and  smiles,  and  hopes  ? 
Sat  not  around  his  table  sons  and  daughters  ? 
Was  not  his  ear  with  music  pleased  ?  his  eye 
With  light  ?  his  nostrils  with  perfumes  ?  his  lips 


288  THE   COtTRSE   OF   TIME. 

With  pleasant  relishes  ?     Grew  not  Ms  herds  ? 

Fell  not  the  rain  upon  his  meadows  ?  reaped 

He  not  his  harvests  ?  and  did  not  his  heart 

Revel,  at  will,  through  all  the  charities 

And  sympathies  of  nature,  unconfined  ? 

And  were  not  these  all  sweetened  and  sanctified 

By  dews  of  holiness,  shed  from  above  ? 

Might  he  not  walk  through  Fancy's  airy  halls  ? 

Might  he  not  History's  ample  page  survey  ? 

Might  he  not,  finally,  explore  the  depths 

Of  mental,  moral,  natural,  divine  ? 

But  why  enumerate  thus  ?     One  word  enough. 

There  was  no  joy  in  all  created  things, 

No  drop  of  sweet,  that  turned  not  iu  the  end 

To  sour,  of  which  the  righteous  man  did  not 

Partake ;  partake,  invited  by  the  voice 

Of  God,  his  Father's  voice,  who  gave  him  all 

His  heart's  desire  :  and  o'er  the  sinner  still, 

The  Christian  had  this  one  advantage  more, 

That  when  his  earthly  pleasures  failed — and  fail 

They  always  did  to  every  soul  of  man, — 

He  sent  his  hopes  on  high,  looked  up  and  reached 

His  sickle  forth,  and  reaped  the  fields  of  heaven. 

And  plucked  the  clusters  from  the  vines  of  God. 

Nor  was  the  general  aspect  of  the  world 
Always  a  moral  waste.     A  time  there  came, 
Though  few  believed  it  e'er  should  come  ;  a  time, 
Typed  by  the  Sabbath  day  recurring  once 
In  seven,  and  by  the  .year  of  rest  indulged 
Septennial  to  the  lands  on  Jordan's  banks  ; 
A  time  foretold  by  Judah's  bards  in  words 
Of  fire  ;  a  time,  seventh  part  of  time,  and  set 
Before  the  eighth  and  last,  the  Sabbath  day 
Of  all  the  earth,  when  all  had  rest  and  peace. 
Before  its  coming  many  to  and  fro 


BOOK  v.  289 

Ran,  ran  from  various  cause  ;  by  many  sent 
From  various  cause,  upright  and  crooked  both. 
Some  sent  and  ran  for  love  of  souls,  sincere 
And  more,  at  instance  of  a  holy  name. 
With  godly  zeal  much  vanity  was  mixed ; 
And  circumstance  of  gaudy  civil  pomp  ; 
And  speeches  buying  praise  for  praise  ;  and  lists, 
And  endless  scrolls,  surcharged  with  modest  names 
That  sought  the  public  eye ;  and  stories,  told 
In  quackish  phrase,  that  hurt  their  credit,  even 
When  true ;  combined  with  wise  and  prudent  means, 
Much  wheat,  much  chaff,  much  gold,  and  much  alloy; 
But  God  wrought  with  the  whole,  wrought  most  with 

what 

To  man  seemed  weakest  means,  and  brought  result 
Of  good,  from  good  and  evil  both  ;  and  breathed 
Into  the  withered  nations  breath  of  life, 
The  breath  of  life,  of  liberty  and  truth, 
By  means  of  knowledge,  breathed  into  the  souL 

Then  was  the  evil  day  of  tyranny, 
Of  kingly  and  of  priestly  tyranny, 
That  bruised  the  nations  long.     As  yet,  no  state 
Beneath  the  heavens  had  tasted  freedom's  wine, 
Though  loud  of  freedom  was  the  talk  of  all. 
Some  groaned  more  deeply,  being  heavier  tasked  ; 
Some  wrought  with  straw,  and  some  without ;  but  all 
Were  slaves,  or  meant  to  be  ;  for  rulers,  still, 
Had  been  of  equal  mind,  excepting  few, 
Cruel,  rapacious,  tyrannous,  and  vile, 
And  had  with  equal  shoulder  propped  the  Beast. 
As  yet,  the  Church,  the  holy  spouse  of  God, 
In  members  few,  had  wandered  in  her  weeds 
Of  mourning,  persecuted,  scorned,  reproached, 
And  buffeted,  and  killed ;  in  members  few, 
Though  seeming  many  whiles ;  then  fewest,  oft, 
25 


290  THE   COURSE   OP   TIME. 

When  seeming  most.     She  still  had  hung  her  harp 

Upon  the  willow-tree,  and  sighed,  and  wept 

From  age  to  age.     Satan  began  the  war, 

And  all  his  angels,  and  all  wicked  men, 

Against  her  fought  by  while,  or  fierce  attack, 

Six  thousand  years  ;  but  fought  in  vain.     She  stood 

Troubled  on  every  side,  but  not  distressed ; 

Weeping,  but  yet  despairing  not ;  cast  down, 

But  not  destroyed  :  for  she  upon  the  palms 

Of  God  was  graven,  and  precious  in  his  sight, 

As  apple  of  his  eye ;  and,  like  the  bush 

On  Midia's  mountain  seen,  burned  unconsumed; 

But  to  the  wilderness  retiring,  dwelt, 

Debased  in  sackcloth,  and  forlorn  in  tears. 

As  yet  had  sung  the  scarlet-colored  Whore, 
Who  on  the  breast  of  civil  power  reposed 
Her  harlot  head,  (the  Church  a  harlot  then, 
When  first  she  wedded  civil  power,)  and  dranlc 
The  blood  of  martyred  saints, — whose  priests  were 

lords, 

Whose  coffers  held  the  gold  of  every  land, 
Who  held  a  cup  of  all  pollutions  full, 
Who  with  a  double  horn  the  people  pushed, 
And  raised  her  forehead,  full  of  blasphemy, 
Above  the  holy  God,  usurping  oft 
Jehovah's  incommunicable  names. 
The  nations  had  been  dark ;  the  Jews  had  pined, 
Scattered,  without  a  name,  beneath  the  Curse  ; 
War  had  abounded,  Satan  raged,  unchained  ; 
And  earth  had  still  been  black  with  moral  gloom. 

But  now  the  cry  of  men  oppressed  went  up 
Before  the  Lord,  and  to  remembrance  came 
The  tears  of  all  his  saints,  their  tears,  and  groani. 
Wise  men  had  read  the  number  of  the  name ; 


291 


The  prophet- years  had  rolled  ;  the  tim<>,  and  times, 
And  half  a  time,  were  now  fulfilled  complete: 
The  seven  fierce  vials  of  the  wrath  of  God, 
Poured  by  seven  angels  strong,  were  shed  abroad 
Upon  the  earth  and  emptied  to  the  dregs  ; 
The  prophecy  for  confirmation  stood  ; 
And  all  was  ready  for  the  sword  of  God. 

The  righteous  saw,  and  fled  without  delay 
Into  the  chambers  of  Omnipotence. 
The  wicked  mocked,  and  sought  for  erring  cause, 
To  satisfy  the  dismal  state  of  things ; 
The  public  credit  gone,  the  fear  in  time 
Of  peace,  the  starving  want  in  time  of  wealth, 
The  insurrection  muttering  in  the  streets, 
And  pallid  consternation  spreading  wide  ; 
And  leagues,  though  holy  termed,  first  ratified 
In  hell,  on  purpose  made  to  under-prop 
Iniquity,  and  crush  the  sacred  truth. 

Meantime,  a  mighty  angel  stood  in  heaven, 
And  cried  aloud,  "Associate  now  yourselves, 
Ye  princes,  potentates,  and  men  of  war, 
And  mitred  heads,  associate  now  yourselves, 
And  be  dispersed  ;  embattle,  and  be  broken. 
Gird  on  your  armor,  and  be  dashed  to  dust. 
Take  counsel,  and  it  shall  be  brought  to  naught. 
Speak,  and  it  shall  not  stand."     And  suddenly 
The  armies  of  the  saints,  imbarmered,  stood 
On  Zion  hill ;  and  with  them  angels  stood 
In  squadron  bright,  and  chariots  of  fire ; 
And  with  them  stood  the  Lord,  clad  like  a  man 
Of  war,  and,  to  the  sound  of  thunder,  led 
The  battle  on.     Earth  shook,  the  kingdoms  shook ; 
The  Beast,  the  lying  Seer,  dominions,  fell ; 
Thrones,  tyrants  fell,  confounded  in  the  dust, 


292  THE    COT7KSE    OF   TIME. 

Scattered  and  driven  before  the  breath  of  God, 

As  chaff  of  summer  threshing  floor,  before 

The  wind.     Three  days  the  battle  wasting  slew. 

The  sword  was  full,  the  arrow  drunk  with  blood ; 

And  to  the  supper  of  Almighty  God, 

Spread  in  Hamonah's  vale,  the  fowls  of  heaven, 

And  every  beast,  invited,  came,  and  fed 

On  captains'  flesh,  and  drank  the  olood  of  kings. 

And,  lo  !  another  angel  stood  in  heaven, 
Crying  aloud  with  mighty  voice,  "  Fallen,  fallen, 
Is  Babylon  the  Great,  to  rise  no  more. 
Rejoice,  ye  prophets  !  over  her  rejoice, 
Apostles  !  holy  men,  all  saints,  rejoice  ! 
And  glory  give  to  God  and  to  the  Lamb." 
And  all  the  armies  of  disburdened  earth, 
As  voice  of  many  waters,  and  as  voice 
Of  thunderings,  and  voice  of  multitudes, 
Answered,  Amen.     And  every  hill  and  rock, 
And  sea,  and  every  beast,  answered,  Amen. 
Europa  answered,  and  the  farthest  bounds 
Of  woody  Chili,  Asia's  fertile  coasts, 
And  Afric's  burning  wastes,  answered,  Amen. 
And  Heaven,  rejoicing,  answered  back,  Amen. 

Not  so  the  wicked.    They  afar  were  heard 
Lamenting.    Kings,  who  drank  her  cup  of  whoredoms, 
Captains,  and  admirals,  and  mighty  men, 
Who  lived  deliciously  ;  and  merchants,  rich 
With  merchandise  of  gold,  and  wine,  and  oil ; 
And  those  who  traded  in  the  souls  of  men, 
Known  by  their  gaudy  robes  of  priestly  pomp ; — 
All  these  afar  off  stood,  crying,  Alas  ! 
Alas  !  and  wept,  and  gnashed  their  teeth,  and  groaned, 
And  with  the  owl  that  on  her  ruins  sat, 
Made  dolorous  concert  in  the  ear  of  Night. 


BOOK  v.  293 

A.nd  over  her  again  the  Heavens  rejoiced, 
And  Earth  returned  again  the  loud  response. 

Thrice  happy  days  !  thrice  blessed  the  man  who  saw 
Their  dawn  !     The  Church  and  State,  that  long  had 

held 

Unholy  intercourse,  were  now  divorced; 
Princes  were  righteous  men,  judges  upright; 
And  first,  in  general,  now — for  in  the  worst 
Of  times  there  were  some  honest  seers — the  priest 
Sought  other  than  the  fleece  among  his  nocks, 
Best  paid  when  God  was  honored  most ;  and,  like 
A  cedar,  iiaurished  well,  Jerusalem  grew, 
And  towered  on  high,  and  spread,  and  nourished  fair  • 
And  underneath  her  boughs  the  nations  lodged, 
All  nations  lodged,  and  sung  the  song  of  peace. 
From  the  four  winds,  the  Jews,  eased  of  the  Curse 
Returned,  and  dwelt  with  God  in  Jacob's  land, 
And  drank  of  Sharon  and  of  Carmel's  vine. 
Satan  was  bound,  though  bound,  not  banished  quite, 
But  lurked  about  the  timorous  skirts  of  things, 
111  lodged,  and  thinking  whiles  to  leave  the  earth, 
And  with  the  wicked, — for  some  wicked  were,— 
Held  midnight  meetings,  as  the  saints  were  wont, 
Fearful  of  day,  who  once  was  as  the  sun, 
And  worshiped  more.     The  bad,  but  few,  became 
A  taunt  and  hissing  now,  as  heretofore 
The  good ;  and,  blushing,  hasted  out  of  sight. 
Disease  was  none ;  the  voice  of  war  forgot ; 
The  sword,  a  share ;  a  pruning-hook  the  spear. 
Men  grew  and  multiplied  upon  the  earth, 
And  filled  the  city  and  the  waste ;  and  Death 
Stood  waiting  for  the  lapse  of  tardy  Age, 
That  mocked  him  long.     Men  grew  and  multiplied, 
But  lacked  not  bread  ;  for  God  his  promise  brought 
To  mind,  and  blessed  the  land  with  plenteous  rain, 
25* 


294  THE    COURSE   OF   TIME. 

And  made  it  'olessed  for  dews  and  precious  things 
Of  heaven,  and  blessings  of  the  deep  beneath, 
And  blessings  of  the  sun  and  moon,  and  fruits 
Of  day  and  night,  and  blessings  of  the  vale, 
And  precious  things  of  the  eternal  hills, 
And  all  the  fulness  of  perpetual  spring. 

The  prison-house,  where  chained  felons  pined, 
Threw  open  his  ponderous  doors,  let  in  the  light 
Of  heaven,  and  grew  into  a  church,  where  God 
Was  worshipped.     None  were  ignorant,  selfish  none , 
Love  took  the  place  of  law  ;  where'er  you  met 
A  man,  you  met  a  friend,  sincere  and  true. 
Kind  looks  foretold  as  kind  a  heart  within  ; 
Words  as  they  sounded,  meant ;  and  promises 
Were  made  to  be  performed.     Thrice  happy  days ! 
Philosophy  was  sanctified,  and  saw 
Perfections  that  she  thought  a  fable,  long. 
Revenge  his  dagger  dropped,  and  kissed  the  hand 
Of  Mercy ;  Anger  cleared  Ms  cloudy  brow, 
And  sat  with  Peace  ;  Envy  grew  red,  and  smiled 
On  Worth ;  Pride  stooped,  and  kissed  Humility ; 
Lust  washed  his  miry  hands,  and  wedded,  leaned 
On  chaste  Desire  ;  and  Falsehood  laid  aside 
His  many-folded  cloak,  and  bowed  to  Truth  ; 
And  Treachery  up  from  his  mining  came, 
And  walked  above  the  ground  with  righteous  Faith  ; 
And  Covetousness  unclenched  his  sinewy  hand, 
And  opened  his  door  to  Charity,  the  fair ; 
Hatred  was  lost  in  Love  ;  and  Vanity, 
With  a  good  conscience  pleased,  her  feathers  cropped ; 
Sloth  in  the  morning  rose  with  Industry  ; 
To  Wisdom  Folly  turned  ;  and  Fashion  turned 
Deception  off,  in  act  as  good  as  word. 
The  hand  that  held  a  whip  was  lifted  up 
To  bless ;  slave  was  a  word  in  ancient  book? 


BOOK  v.  296 

Met  only  ;  every  man  was  free  ;  and  all 

Feared  God,  and  served  him  day  and  night  in  love. 

How  fair  the  daughter  of  Jerusalem  then  ! 
How  gloriously  from  Zion  Hill  she  looked  ! 
Clothed  with  the  sun,  and  in  her  train  the  moon, 
And  on  her  head  a  coronet  of  stars, 
And  girdling  round  her  waist,  with  heavenly  grace, 
The  bow  of  Mercy  bright ;  and  in  her  hand 
Immanuel's  cross,  her  sceptre  and  her  hope. 

Desire  of  every  land  !  the  nations  came, 
&nd  worshipped  at  her  feet ;  all  nations  came, 
Flocking  like  doves  :  Columba's  painted  tribes, 
That  from  the  Magellan  to  the  Frozen  Bay, 
Beneath  the  Arctic,  dwelt ;  and  drank  the  tides 
Of  Amazona,  prince  of  earthly  streams ; 
Or  slept  at  noon  beneath  the  giant  shade 
Of  Andes'  mount ;  or,  roving  northward,  heard 
Nigara  sing,  from  Erie's  billow  down 
To  Frontenac,  and  hunted  thence  the  fur 
To  Labrador :  and  Afric's  dusky  swarms, 
That  from  Morocco  to  Angola  dwelt, 
And  drank  the  Niger  from  his  native  wells, 
Or  roused  the  lion  in  Numidia's  groves  ; 
The  tribes  that  sat  among  the  fabled  cliffs 
Of  Atlas,  looking  to  Atlanta's  wave  ; 
With  joy  and  melody,  arose  and  came. 
Zara  awoke  and  came,  and  Egypt  came, 
Casting  her  idol  gods  into  the  Nile. 
Black  Ethiopia,  that  shadowless, 
Beneath  the  Torrid  burned,  arose  and  came. 
Dauma  and  Medra,  and  the  pirate  tribes 
Of  Algeri,  with  incense  came,  and  pure 
Offerings,  annoying  now  the  seas  no  more. 
The  silken  tribes  of  Asia,  nocking,  came, 


296  THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 

Inntunerous  :  Ishmael's  wandering  race,  that  rode 
On  camels  o'er  the  spicy  tract  that  lay 
From  Persia  to  the  lied  Sea  coast ;  the  king 
Of  broad  Cathay,  with  numbers  infinite, 
Of  many  lettered  casts ;  and  all  the  tribes 
That  dwelt  from  Tigris,  to  the  Ganges'  wave, 
And  worshipped  fire,  or  Brahma,  fabled  god ; 
Cashmeres,  Circassians,  Banyans,  tender  race ! 
That  swept  the  insect  from  their  path,  and  lived 
On  herbs  and  fruits ;  and  those  who  peaceful  dwelt 
Along  the  shady  avenue  that  stretched 
From  Agra  to  Lahore ;  and  all  the  hosts 
That  owned  the  Crescent  late,  deluded  long  ; 
The  Tartar  hordes,  that  roamed  from  Oby's  bank, 
Ungoverncd,  southward  to  the  wondrous  Wall. 
The  tribes  of  Europe  came ;  the  Greek,  redeemed 
From  Turkish  thrall,  the  Spaniard  came,  and  Gaul, 
And  Britain  with  her  ships,  and,  on  his  sledge, 
The  Laplander,  that  nightly  watched  the  bear 
Circling  the  Pole ;  and  those  who  saw  the  flames 
Of  Hecla  burn  the  drifted  snow  ;  the  Russ, 
Long- whiskered,  and  equestrian  Pole ;  and  those 
Who  drank  the  Rhine,  or  lost  the  evening  sun 
Behind  the  Alpine  towers ;  and  she  that  sat 
By  Arno,  classic  stream  ;  Venice ;  or  Rome, 
Head  quarters  long  of  sin  !  first  guileless  now, 
And  meaning  as  she  seemed,  stretched  forth  her  hands, 
And  all  the  Isles  of  ocean  rose  and  came, 
Whether  they  heard  the  roll  of  banished  tides, 
Antipodes  to  Albion's  wave,  or  watched 
The  Moon  ascending  chalky  Teneriffe, 
And  with  Atlanta  holding  nightly  love. 
Tao  Sun,  the  Moon,  the  Constellations,  came : 
Thrice  twelve  and  ten  that  watched  the  Antarctic 

sleep, 
Twice  six  that  near  the  Ecliptic  dwelt,  thrice  twelve 


BOOK     V. 


297 


Ajid  one,  that  with  the  Streamers  danced,  and  saw 

The  Hyperborean  Ice  guarding  the  Pole. 

The  East,  the  West,  the  South,  and  snowy  North, 

Rejoicing  met,  and  worshipped  reverently 

Before  the  Lord,  in  Zion's  holy  hill ; 

And  all  the  places  round  about  were  blessed. 

The  animals,  as  once  in  Eden,  lived 
In  peace.    The  wolf  dwelt  with  the  lamb,  the  bear 
And  leopard  with  the  ox.    With  looks  of  love, 
The  tiger  and  the  scaly  crocodile 
Together  met,  at  Gambia's  palmy  wave. 
Perched  on  the  eagle's  wing,  the  bird  of  song, 
Singing,  arose,  and  visited  the  sun  ; 
And  with  the  falcon  sat  the  gentle  lark. 
The  little  child  leapt  from  its  mother's  arms, 
And  stroked  the  crested  snake,  and  rolled  unhurt 
Among  his  speckled  waves,  and  wished  him  home; 
And  sauntering  school-boys,  slow  returning,  played 
At  eve  about  the  lion's  den,  and  wove, 
Into  his  shaggy  mane,  fantastic  flowers. 
To  meet  the  husbandman,  early  abroad, 
Hasted  the  deer,  and  waved  its  woody  head, 
And  round  his  dewy  steps,  the  hare,  unscared, 
Sported  ;  and  toyed  familiar  with  his  dog. 
The  flocks  and  herds,  o'er  hill  and  valley  spread, 
Exulting,  cropped  the  ever-budding  herb. 
The  desert  blossomed,  and  the  barren  sung. 
Justice  and  Mercy,  Holiness  and  Love, 
Among  the  people  walked,  Messiah  reigned, 
And  Earth  kept  Jubilee  a  thousand  years 


COURSE     OF     TIME. 

BOOK  VI. 


ANALYSIS  OF  BOOK  VI. 


At  the  opening  of  the  Book,  the  .Bard  glances  at  the  final  de 
struction  of  the  Earth,  as  if  the  astonishing  change  were  actu 
ally  again  taking  place  under  his  eye.  Bui,  checking  himself, 
he  proceeds  to  describe  the  years  which  followed  the  millennial 
rest. 

Ungodliness  again  abounded.  Ambition  and  love  of  ease,  prin 
ciples  which  had  always  struggled  for  the  mastery  of  man,  re 
gained  their  ascendancy.  Every  form  of  sin,  which  had  ex 
isted  before  the  reign  of  Messiah,  was  renewed,  and  new  forms 
were  invented.  The  age  was,  however,  enlightened  and  pol 
ished,  and  the  universal  contempt  of  God  wtu  wholly  wjful. 

In  the  meantime,  strange  phenomena  and  disasters  gave  pre 
sage  of  Earth's  approaching  dissolution.  Men  disturbed,  not 
reformed,  inquired  the  meaning  in  alarm ;  but  soon  forgot  the 
whole,  in  their  guilty  pleasures ;  and  Earth  hasted  to  fill  up  the 
measure  of  her  wickedness. 

Here  the  Bard  pauses  in  his  narrative,  as  the  numerous  occu 
pants  of  heaven  suspend  their  various  employments,  to  join  in 
an  evening  hymn  of  praise.  All  are  represented  as  turning 
towards  the  unveiled  Godhead,  while  the  sainted  Isaiah  takes 
the  harp,  and,  standing  before  the  throne,  utters  the  holy  song. 
At  its  close,  the  thousands  infinite,  who  "  circling  stand,  bow- 
ing  afar,"  devoutly  respond  their  assent. 


THE 

COURSE     OF     TIME. 
BOOK    VI. 

RESUME  thy  tone  of  wo,  immortal  Harp  ! 
The  song  of  mirth  is  past,  the  Jubilee 
Is  ended,  and  the  sun  begins  to  fade  ! 
Soon  passed,  for  Happiness  counts  not  the  hours : 
To  her  a  thousand  years  seem  as  a  day ; 
A  day,  a  thousand  years  to  Misery. 
Satan  is  loose,  and  Violence  is  heard, 
And  Riot  in  the  street,  and  Revelry 
Intoxicate,  and  Murder,  and  Revenge. 
Put  on  your  armor  now,  ye  righteous  !  put 
The  helmet  of  salvation  on,  and  gird 
Your  loins  about  with  truth ;  add  righteousness, 
And  add  the  shield  of  faith,  and  take  the  sword 
Of  God— awake  and  watch ! — the  day  is  near, 
Great  day  of  God  Almighty  and  the  Lamb ! 
The  harvest  of  the  earth  is  fully  ripe  ; 
Vengeance  begins  to  tread  the  great  wine-press 
Of  fierceness  and  of  wrath ;  and  Mercy  pleads, 
Mercy  that  pleaded  long,  she  pleads— no  more  ! 
Whence  comes  that  darkness  ?  whence  those  yells  of 


wo 


\Vhat  thunderings  are  these  that  shake  the  world  ? 
vVhy  fall  the  lamps  from  heaven  as  blasted  figs  ? 
\Yhy  tremble  righteous  men  ?  why  angels  pale  ? 
vVhy  is  all  fear  ?  what  has  become  of  hope  ? 
26 


302  THE   COURSE   OP  TIME. 

God    comes  !  —  God,    in    his    car    of    vengeance, 

comes !  — 

Hark  !  louder  on  the  blast,  come  hollow  shrieks 
Of  dissolution  !  in  the  fitful  scowl 
Of  night,  near  and  more  near,  angels  of  death 
Incessant  nap  their  deadly  wings,  and  roar 
Through  all  the  fevered  air  !  the  mountains  rock, 
The  mgon  is  sick,  and  all  the  stars  of  heaven 
Burn  feebly  !  oft  and  sudden  gleams  the  fire, 
Revealing  awfully  the  brow  of  Wrath  ! 
The  Thunder,  long  and  loud,  utters  his  voice, 
Responsive  to  the  Ocean's  troubled  growl ! 
Night  comes,  last  night,  the  long,  dark,  dark,  dark, 

night, 

That  has  no  morn  beyond  it.  and  no  star  ! 
No  eye  of  man  hath  seen  a  night  like  this  ! 
Heaven's. trampled  Justice  girds  itself  for  fight ! 
Earth,  to  thy  knees,  and  cry  for  mercy  !  cry 
With  earnest  heart,  for  thou  art  growing  old 
And  hoary,  unrepented,  unforgiven  ! 
And  all  thy  glory  mourns  !     The  vintage  mourns  ! 
Bashan  and  Carmel,  mourn  and  weep  ;  and  mourn, 
Thou  Lebanon  !  with  all  thy  cedars,  mourn. 
Sun!  glorying  in  thy  strength  from  age  to  age, 
So  long  observant  of  thy  hour,  put  on 
Thy  weeds  of  wo,  and  tell  the  Moon  to  weep  ; 
Utter  thy  grief  at  mid- day,  morn,  and  even  ; 
TeL  all  the  nations,  tell  the  Clouds  that  sit 
About  the  portals  of  the  east  and  west, 
And  wanton  with  thy  golden  locks,  to  wait 
Thee  not  to-morrow,  for  no  morrow  comes  ! 
Tell  men  and  women,  tell  the  new-born  child, 
And  every  eye  that  sees,  to  come,  and  see 
Thee  set  behind  Eternity,  for  thou 
Shalt  go  to  bed  to-night,  and  ne'er  awake  ! 
Stars  !  walking  on  the  pavement  of  the  sky, 


303 


Out-sentinels  of  heaven,  watching  the  earth, 
Cease  dancing  now  ;  your  lamps  are  growing  dim, 
Your  graves  are  dug  among  the  dismal  clouds, 
And  angels  are  assembling  round  your,  bier  1 
Orion,  mourn  !  and  Mazzaroth,  and  thou, 
Arcturus  !  mourn,  with  all  thy  northern  sons. 
Daughters  of  Pleiades  !  that  nightly  shed 
Sweet  influence,  and  thou,  fairest  of  stars ! 
Eye  of  the  morning,  weep  !  and  weep  at  eve  ! 
Weep  setting,  now  to  rise  no  more,  "  and  flame 
On  forehead  of  the  dawn," — as  sung  the  bard. 
Great  bard  !  who  used  on  earth  a  seraph's  iyre, 
Whose  numbers  wandered  through  eternity, 
And  gave  sweet  foretaste  of  the  heavenly  harps ! 
Minstrel  of  sorrow  !  native  of  the  dark, 
Shrub-loving  Philomel,  that  wooed  the  Dews, 
At  midnight  from  their  starry  beds,  and,  charmed, 
Held  them  around  thy  song  till  dawn  awoke, 
Sad  bird  !  pour  through  the  gloom  thy  weeping  son£, 
Pour  all  thy  dying  melody  of  grief, 
And  with  the  turtle  spread  the  wave  of  wo  ! 
Spare  not  thy  reed,  for  thou  shalt  sing  no  more  ! 


Ye  holy  bards  ! — if  yet  a  holy  bard 
Remain — what  chord  shall  serve  you  now !  what  harp ! 
What  harp  shall  sing  the  dying  Sun  asleep, 
And  mourn  behind  the  funeral  of  the  Moon ! 
What  harp  of  boundless,  deep,  exhaustless  wo, 
Shall  utter  forth  the  groanings  of  the  damned  ! 
And  sing  the  obsequies  of  wicked  souls ! 
And  wail  their  plunge  in  the  eternal  fire ! — 
Hold,  hold  your  hands  !  hold,  angels  ! — God  laments, 
And  draws  a  cloud  of  mourning  round  his  throne  ! 
The  Organ  of  Eternity  is  mute  ! 
And  there  is  silence  in  the  Heaven  of  Heavens  ! 


304  THE    COURSE   OP   TIME, 

Daughters  of  beauty  !  choice  of  beings  made ! 
Much  praised,  much  blamed,  much  loved  ;  but  fairer 

far 

Than  aught  beheld,  than  aught  imagined  else 
Fairest,  and  dearer  than  all  else  most  dear  ; 
Light  of  the  darksome  wilderness  !  to  Time 
As  stars  to  night,  whose  eyes  were  spells  that  held 
The  passenger  forgetful  of  his  way, 
Whose  steps  were  majesty,  whose  words  were  song, 
Whose  smiles  were  hope,  whose  actions,  perfect  grace 
Whose  love,  the  solace,  glory,  and  delight 
Of  man,  his  boast,  his  riches,  his  renown; 
When  found,  sufficient  bliss  !  when  lost,  despair  !  — 
Stars  of  creation  !  images  of  love  ! 
Break  xip  the  fountains  of  your  tears,  your  tears,, 
More  eloquent  than  learned  tongue,  or  lyre 
Of  purest  note  !  your  sunny  raiment  stain, 
Put  dust  upon  your  heads,  lament  and  weep, 
And  utter  all  your  minstrelsy  of  wo ! 

Go  to,  ye  wicked,  weep  and  howl ;  for  all 
That  God  hath  written  against  you  is  at  hand. 
The  cry  of  Violence  hath  reached  his  ear, 
Hell  is  prepared,  and  Justice  whets  his  sword. 
Weep  all  of  every  name  !     Begin  the  wo, 
Ye  woods,  and  tell  it  to  the  doleful  winds ; 
And  doleful  winds,  wail  to  the  howling  hills  ; 
And  howling  hills,  mourn  to  the  dismal  vales  ; 
And  dismal  vales,  sigh  to  the  sorrowing  brooks  ; 
And  sorrowing  brooks,  weep  to  the  weeping  stream 
And  weeping  stream,  awake  the  groaning  deep  ; 
And  let  the  instrument  take  up  the  song, 
Responsive  to  the  voice,  harmonious  wo  ! 
Ye  Heavens,  great  arch- way  of  the  universe, 
Put  sackcloth  on ;  and  Ocean,  clothe  thyself 
In  garb  of  widowhood,  and  gather  all 


BOOK    VI.  305 

Thy  waves  into  a  groan,  and  utter  it, 
Long,  loud,  deep,  piercing,  dolorous,  immense : 
The  occasion  asks  it !— Nature  dies,  and  God 
And  angels  come  to  lay  her  in  the  grave  ! 

But  we  have  overleaped  our  theme  ;  behind, 
A  little  season  waits  a  verse  or  two, 
The  years  that  followed  the  millennial  rest. 
Bad  years  they  were  ;  and  first,  as  signal  sure, 
That  at  the  core  religion  was  diseased, 
The  sons  of  Levi  strove  again  for  place, 
And  eminence,  and  names  of  swelling  pomp ; 
Setting  their  feet  upon  the  people's  neck, 
And  slumbering  in  the  lap  of  civil  power, 
Of  civil  power  again  tyrannical : 
And  second  sign,  sure  sign,  whenever  seen, 
That  holiness  was  dying  in  a  land, 
The  Sabbath  was  profaned  and  set  at  naught ; 
The  honest  seer,  who  spoke  the  truth  of  God 
Plainly,  was  left  with  empty  walls ;  and  round 
The  frothy  orator,  who  busked  his  tales 
In  quackish  pomp  of  noisy  word,  the  ear 
Tickling,  but  leaving  still  the  heart  unprobed, 
The  judgment  uninformed, — numbers  immense 
Flocked,  gaping  wide,  with  passions  high  inflamed ; 
And  on  the  way  returning,  heated,  home, 
Of  eloquence,  and  not  of  truth,  conversed — 
Mean  eloquence  that  wanted  sacred  truth. 

Two  principles  from  the  beginning  strove 
In  human  nature,  still  dividing  man, — 
Sloth  and  activity ;  the  lust  of  praise, 
And  indolence  that  rather  wished  to  sleep. 
And  not  unfrequently  in  the  same  mind 
They  dubious  contest  held  ;  one  gaining  now, 
And  now  the  other  crowned,  and  both  again 
26* 


THE   COURSE   OP   TIME. 


Keeping  the  field,  with  equal  combat  fought. 
Much  different  was  their  voice.     Ambition  called 
To  action,  sloth  invited  to  repose. 
Ambition  early  rose,  and,  being  up, 
Toiled  ardently,  and  late  retired  to  rest ; 
Sloth  lay  till  mid-day,  turning  on  his  couch, 
Like  ponderous  door  upon  its  weary  hinge, 
And,  having  rolled  him  out  with  much  ado, 
And  many  a  dismal  sigh,  and  vain  attempt, 
He  sauntered  out,  accoutred  carelessly, — 
With  half-oped,  misty,  unobservant  eye, 
Somniferous,  that  weighed  the  object  down 
On  which  its  burden  fell, — an  hour  or  two, 
Then  with  a  groan  retired  to  rest  again. 
The  one,  whatever  deed  had  been  achieved, 
Thought  it  too  little,  and  too  small  the  praise ; 
The  other  tried  to  think — for  thinking  so 
Answered  his  purpose  best — that  what  of  great 
Mankind  could  do  had  been  already  done  ; 
And  therefore  laid  him  calmly  down  to  sleep. 

Different  in  mode,  destructive  both  alike. 
Destructive  always  indolence  ;  and  love 
Of  fame  destructive  always  too,  if  less 
Than  praise  of  God  it  sought,  content  with  less . 
Even  then  not  current,  if  it  sought  his  praise 
From  other  motive  than  resistless  love ; 
Though  base,  main-spring  of  action  in  the  world  j 
And,  under  name  of  vanity  and  pride, 
Was  greatly  practised  on  by  cunning  men. 
It  opened  the  niggard's  purse,  clothed  nakedness, 
Gave  beggars  food,  and  threw  the  Pharisee 
Upon  his  knees,  and  kept  him  long  in  act 
Of  prayer  ;  it  spread  the  lace  upon  the  fop, 
His  language  trimmed,  and  planned  his  curious  gait; 
It  stuck  the  feather  on  the  gay  coquette, 


BOOK    VI.  307 

AJid  on  her  finger  laid  the  heavy  load 

Of  jewelry ;  it  did — what  did  it  not  ? 

The  gospel  preached,  the  gospel  paid,  and  sent 

The  gospel ;  conquered  nations,  cities  built, 

Measured  the  furrow  of  the  field  with  nice 

Directed  share,  shaped  bulls,  and  cows,  and  rams, 

And  threw  the  ponderous  stone  ;  and,  pitiful, 

Indeed,  and  much  against  the  grain,  it  dragged 

The  stagnant,  dull,  predestinated  fool 

Through  learning's  halls,  and  made  him  labor  much 

Abortively ;  though  sometimes  not  unpraised 

He  left  the  sage's  chair,  and  home  returned, 

Making  his  simple  mother  think  that  she 

Had  borne  a  man.     In  schools  designed  to  root 

Sin  up,  and  plant  the  seeds  of  holiness 

In  youthful  minds,  it  held  a  signal  place. 

The  little  infant  man,  by  nature  proud, 

Was  taught  the  Scriptures  by  the  love  of  praise, 

And  grew  religious  as  he  grew  in  fame. 

And  thus  the  principle,  which  out  of  heaven 

The  devil  threw,  and  threw  him  down  to  hell, 

And  keeps  him  there,  was  made  an  instrument 

To  moralize  and  sanctify  mankind, 

And  in  their  hearts  beget  humility ; 

With  what  success  it  needs  not  now  to  say. 

Destructive  both  we  said,  activity 
And  sloth  :  behold  the  last  exemplified, 
In  literary  man.     Not  all  at  once, 
He  yielded  to  the  soothing  voice  of  sleep  ; 
But,  having  seen  a  bough  of  laurel  wave, 
He  effort  made  to  climb  ;  and  friends,  and  even 
Himself,  talked  of  his  greatness,  as  at  hand, 
And,  prophesying,  drew  his  future  life. 
Vain  prophecy  !  his  fancy,  taught  by  sloth, 
Saw,  in  the  very  threshold  of  pursuit, 


SOS  THE    COURSE   OP  TIMfi. 

A  thousand  obstacles  ;  he  halted  first, 

And  while  he  halted,  saw  his  burning  hopes 

Grow  dim  and  dimmer  still ;  ambition's  sel£ 

The  advocate  of  loudest  tongue,  decayed  ; 

His  purposes,  made  daily,  daily  broken, 

Like  plant  uprooted  oft,  and  set  again, 

More  sickly  grew,  and  daily  wavered  more  ; 

Till  at  the  last,  decision,  quite  worn  out, 

Decision,  fulcrum  of  the  mental  powers, 

"Resigned  the  blasted  soul  to  staggering  chance ; 

Sleep  gathered  fast,  and  weighed  him  downward  stiil ; 

His  eye  fell  heavy  from  the  mount  of  fame  ; 

His  young  resolves  to  benefit  the  world 

Perished  and  were  forgotten  ;  he  shut  his  ear 

Against  the  painful  news  of  rising  worth ; 

And  drank  with  desperate  thirst  the  poppy's  juice  ; 

A  deep  and  mortal  slumber  settled  down 

Upon  his  weary  faculties  oppressed ; 

He  rolled  from  side  to  side,  and  rolled  again ; 

And  snored,  and  groaned,  and  withered  and  expired, 

And  rotted  on  the  spot,  leaving  no  name. 

The  hero  best  example  gives  of  toil 
Unsanctified.     One  word  his  history  writes, 
"  He  was  a  murderer  above  the  laws, 
And  greatly  praised  for  doing  murderous  deeds." 
And  now  he  grew,  and  reached  his  perfect  growth; 
And  also  now  the  sluggard  soundest  slept, 
And  by  him  lay  the  unintcrred  corpse. 

Of  every  order,  sin  and  wickedness, 
Deliberate,  cool,  malicious  villany, 
This  age,  attained  maturity,  unknown 
Before  ;  and  seemed  in  travail  to  bring  forth 
Some  last,  enormous,  monstrous  deed  of  guilt, 
Original,  unprecedented  guilt, 


BOOK    VI.  309 

That  might  obliterate  the  memory 

Of  what  had  hitherto  been  done  most  vile. 

Inventive  men  were  paid,  at  public  cost, 

To  plan  new  modes  of  sin  ;  the  holy  Word 

Of  God  was  burned,  with  acclamations  loud  f 

New  tortures  were  invented  for  the  good  ; — 

For  still  some  good  remained,  as  whiles  through  sky 

Of  thickest  clouds,  a  wandering  star  appeared  ; — 

New  oaths  of  blasphemy  were  framed  and  sworn ; 

And  men  in  reputation  grew,  as  grew 

The  stature  of  their  crimes.     Faith  was  not  found. 

Truth  was  not  found,  truth  always  scarce,  so  scarce 

That  half  the  misery  which  groaned  on  earth, 

tn  ordinary  times,  was  progeny 

Of  disappointment,  daily  coming  forth 

Trom  broken  promises,  that  might  have  ne'er 

Bt  en  made,  or,  being  made,  might  have  been  kept ; 

Justice  and  mercy,  too,  were  rare,  obscured 

In  cottage  garb  :  before  the  palace  door, 

The  beggar  rotted,  starving  in  his  rags  ; 

And  on  the  threshold  of  luxurious  domes, 

The  orphan  child  laid  down  his  head,  and  died ; 

Nor  unamusing  was  his  piteous  cry 

To  women,  who  had  now  laid  tenderness 

Aside,  best  pleased  with  sights  of  cruelty  ; 

Flocking,  when  fouler  lusts  would  give  them  time. 

To  horrid  spectacles  of  blood,  where  men, 

Or  guiltless  beasts,  that  seemed  to  look  to  heaven, 

With  eye  imploring  vengeance  on  the  earth, 

Were  tortured  for  the  merriment  of  kings. 

The  advocate  for  him  who  offered  most 

Pleaded ;  the  scribe,  according  to  the  hire, 

Worded  the  lie,  adding,  for  every  piece, 

An  oath  of  confirmation ;  judges  raised 

One  hand  to  intimate  the  sentence,  death, 

Imprisonment,  or  fine,  or  loss  of  goods, 


S10  THE   COURSE   OP  TIME. 

And  in  the  other  held  a  lusty  bribe, 

Which  they  had  taken  to  give  the  sentence  wrong, 

So  managing  the  scale  of  justice  still, 

That  he  was  wanting  found  who  poorest  seemed. 

But  laymen  most  renowned  for  devilish  deeds, 
Labored  at  distance  still  behind  the  priest ; 
lie  shore  Ms  sheep,  and,  having  packed  the  wool, 
Sent  them  unguarded  to  the  hill  of  wolves ; 
And  to  the  bowl  deliberately  sat  down, 
And  with  his  mistress  mocked  at  sacred  things. 

The  theatre  was,  from  the  very  first, 
The  favorite  haunt  of  Sin,  though  honest  men, 
Some  very  honest,  wise,  and  worthy  men, 
Maintained  it  might  be  turned  to  good  account, 
And  so  perhaps  it  might,  but  never  was. 
From  first  to  last,  it  was  an  evil  place  : 
And  now  such  things  were  acted  there,  as  made 
The  devils  blush ;  and  from  the  neighborhood, 
Angels  and  holy  men,  trembling,  retired  : 
And  what  with  dreadful  aggravation  crowned 
This  dreary  time,  was  sin  against  the  light. 
All  men  knew  God,  and,  knowing,  disobeyed; 
And  gloried  to  insult  him  to  his  face. 

Another  feature  only  we  shall  mark. 
It  was  withal  a  highly  polished  age, 
And  scrupulous  in  ceremonious  rite. 
When  stranger  stranger  met  upon  the  way, 
First,  each  to  each  bowed  most  respectfully, 
And  large  profession  made  of  humble  service, 
\nd  then  the  stronger  took  the  other  s  purse, 
And  he  that  stabbed  his  neighbor  to  the  heart, 
Stabbed  him  politely,  and  returned  the  blade 
Peeking  into  its  sheath  with  graceful  air. 


BOOK    VI.  3H 

Meantime  the  earth  gave  symptoms  of  her  end, 
And  all  the  scenery  above  proclaimed, 
That  the  great  last  catastrophe  was  near. 
The  Sun  at  rising  staggered  and  fell  back, 
As  one  too  early  up,  after  a  night 
Of  late  debauch ;  then  rose,  and  shone  agam, 
Brighter  than  wont ;  and  sickened  again,  and  paused 
In  zenith  altitude,  as  one  fatigued ; 
And  shed  a  feeble  twilight  ray  at  noon, 
Housing  the  wolf  before  his  time  to  chase 
The  shepherd  and  his  sheep,  that  sought  for  light, 
And  darkness  found,  astonished,  terrified  ; 
Then,  out  of  course,  rolled  furious  down  the  west, 
As  chariot  reined  by  awkward  charioteer ; 
And,  waiting  at  the  gate,  he  on  the  earth 
Gazed,  as  he  thought  he  ne'er  might  see't  again. 
The  bow  of  mercy,  heretofore  so  fair, 
Ribbed  with  the  native  hues  of  heavenly  love, 
Disastrous  colors  showed,  unseen  till  now  ; 
Changing  upon  the  watery  gulf,  from  pale 
To  fiery  red,  and  back  again  to  pale ; 
And  o'er  it  hovered  wings  of  wrath.    The  Moon 
Swaggered  in  midst  of  heaven,  grew  black,  and  darX, 
Unclouded,  uneclipsed.     The  Stars  fell  down, 
Tumbling  from  off  their  towers  like  drunken  men, 
Or  seemed  to  fall ;  and  glimmered  now,  and  now 
Sprang  out  in  sudden  blaze  and  dimmed  again, 
As  lamp  of  foolish  virgin  lacking  oil. 
The  heavens,  this  moment,  looked  serene  ;  the  next, 
Glowed  like  an  oven  with  God's  displeasure  hot. 

Nor  less,  below,  was  intimation  given, 
Of  some  disaster  great  and  ultimate. 
The  tree  that  bloomed,  or  hung  with  clustering  fruH 
Untouched  by  visible  calamity 
Of  frost  or  tempest,  died  and  came  again. 


012  THE   COURSE   OF  TIME. 

The  flower  and  herb  feU  down  as  sick  ;  then  rose 
And  fell  again.    The  fowls  of  every  hue, 
Crowding  together,  sailed  on  weary  wing ; 
And,  hovering,  oft  they  seemed  about  to  light ; 
Then  soared,  as  if  they  thought  the  earth  unsafe. 
The  cattle  looked  with  meaning  face  on  man. 
Dogs  howled,  and  seemed  to  see  more  than  their  maa« 

ters. 

And  there  were  sights  that  none  had  seen  before ; 
And  hollow,  strange,  unprecedented  sounds, 
And  earnest  whisperings  ran  along  the  hills 
At  dead  of  night ;  and  long,  deep,  endless  sighs, 
Came  from  the  dreary  vale  ;  and  from  the  waste 
Came  horrid  shrieks,  and  fierce  unearthly  groans, 
The  wail  of  evil  spirits,  that  now  felt 
The  hour  of  utter  vengeance  near  at  hand. 
The  winds  from  every  quarter  blew  at  once, 
With  desperate  violence,  and,  whirling,  took 
The  traveller  up,  and  threw  him  down  again, 
At  distance  from  his  path,  confounded,  pale ; 
And  shapes,  strange  shapes !  in  winding  sheets  were 


seen, 


BWUf 

Gliding  through  night,  and  singing  funeral  songs, 

And  imitating  sad,  sepulchral  rites ; 

And  voices  talked  among  the  clouds,  and  still 

The  words  that  men  could  catch  were  spoken  of  them, 

And  seemed  to  be  the  words  of  wonder  great, 

And  expectation  of  some  vast  event. 

Earth  shook,  and  swam,  and  reeled,  and  opened  her 

jaws, 

By  earthquake  tossed,  and  tumbled  to  and  fro ; 
And,  louder  than  the  ear  of  man  had  heard, 
The  Thunder  bellowed,  and  the  Ocean  groaned. 

The  race  of  men,  perplexed,  but  not  reformed, 
Cocking  together,  stood  in  earnest  crowds, 


BOOK   VI.  313 

Conversing  of  the  awful  state  of  things. 
Some  curious  explanations  gave,  unlearned ; 
Some  tried  affectedly  to  laugh,  and  some 
Gazed  stupidly  ;  but  all  were  sad  and  pale, 
And  wished  the  comment  of  the  wise.     Nor  less 
These  prodigies,  occurring  night  and  day, 
Perplexed  philosophy.    The  magi  tried, — 
Magi,  a  name  not  seldom  given  to  fools, 
In  the  vocabulary  of  earthly  speech, — 
They  tried  to  trace  them  still  to  second  cause, 
But  scarcely  satisfied  themselves  ;  though  round 
Their  deep  deliberations,  crowding  came, 
And,  wondering  at  their  wisdom,  went  away, 
Much  quieted  and  very  much  deceived, 
The  people,  always  glad  to  be  deceived. 

These  warnings  passed,  they,  unregarded,  passed, 
And  all  in  wonted  order  calmly  moved. 
The  pulse  of  Nature  regularly  beat, 
And  on  her  cheek  the  bloom  of  perfect  health 
Again  appeared.     Deceitful  pulse  !  and  bloom 
Deceitful !  and  deceitful  calm  !     The  Earth 
Was  old,  and  worn  within ;  but,  like  the  man 
Who  noticed  not  his  mid-day  strength  decline, 
Sliding  so  gently  round  the  curvature 
Of  life,  from  youth  to  age, — she  knew  it  not. 
The  calm  was  like  the  calm,  which  oft  the  man, 
Dying,  experienced  before  his  death ; 
The  bloom  was  but  a  hectic  flush,  before 
The  eternal  paleness.     But  all  these  were  taken, 
By  this  last  race  of  men,  for  tokens  of  good ; 
And  blustering  public  News  aloud  proclaimed — 
News  always  gabbling  ere  they  well  had  thought — 
Prosperity,  and  joy,  and  peace  ;  and  mocked 
The  man  who,  kneeling,  prayed,  and  trembled  still ; 
And  all  in  earnest  to  their  sins  returned. 
27 


814  THE   COURSE   OF  TIME. 

It  was  not  so  in  heaven.    The  elders  round 
The  Throne  conversed  about  the  state  of  man, 
Conjecturing— for  none  of  certain  knew — 
That  Time  was  at  an  end.     They  gazed  intense 
Upon  the  Dial's  face,  which  yonder  stands 
In  gold,  before  the  Sun  of  Righteousness, 
Jehovah,  and  computes  time,  seasons,  years, 
And  destinies,  and  slowly  numbers  o'er 
The  mighty  cycles  of  eternity ; 
By  God  alone  completely  understood, 
But  read  by  all,  revealing  much  to  all. 
And  now,  to  saints  of  eldest  skill,  the  ray, 
Which  on  the  gnomon  fell  of  Time,  seemed  sent 
From  level  west,  and  hasting  quickly  down. 
The  holy  Virtues,  watching,  saw,  besides, 
Great  preparation  going  on  in  heaven, 
Betokening  great  event,  greater  than  aught 
That  first-created  seraphim  had  seen. 
The  faithful  messengers,  who  have  for  wing 
The  lightning,  waiting,  day  and  night,  on  God, 
Before  his  face,  beyond  their  usual  speed, 
On  pinion  of  celestial  light  were  seen, 
Coming  and  going,  and  their  road  was  still 
From  heaven  to  earth,  and  back  again  to  heaven; 
The  angel  of  Mercy,  bent  before  the  Throne, 
By  earnest  pleading,  seemed  to  hold  the  hand 
Of  Vengeance  back,  and  win  a  moment  more 
Of  late  repentance  for  some  sinful  world 
In  jeopardy :  and  now,  the  hill  of  God, 
The  mountain  of  his  majesty,  rolled  flames 
Of  fire,  now  smiled  with  momentary  love, 
And  now  again  with  fiery  fierceness  burned ; 
And  from  behind  the  darkness  of  his  Throne, 
Through  which  created  vision  never  saw, 
The  living  Thunders,  in  their  native  caves, 
Muttered  the  terrors  of  Omnipotence, 


BOOK.    VI.  315 

And  ready  seemed,  impatient  to  fulfil 
Some  errand  of  exterminating  wrath. 

Meanwhile  the  Earth  increased  in  wickedness, 
And  hasted  daily  to  fill  up  her  cup. 
Satan  raged  loose,  Sin  had  her  will,  and  Death 
Enough.     Blood  trode  upon  the  heels  of  Blood, 
Revenge,  in  desperate  mood,  at  midnight  met 
Revenge,  War  brayed  to  War,  Deceit  deceived 
Deceit,  Lie  cheated  Lie,  and  Treachery 
Mined  under  Treachery,  and  Perjury 
Swore  back  on  Perjury,  and  Blasphemy 
Arose  with  hideous  Blasphemy,  and  Curse 
Loud  answered  Curse;  and  drunkard,  stumbling,  foil 
O'er  drunkard  fallen  ;  and  husband  husband  met, 
Returning  each  from  other's  bed  denied  ; 
Thief  stole  from  thief,  and  robber  on  the  way 
Knocked  robber  down,  and  Lewdness,  Violence, 
And  Hate,  met  Lewdness,  Violence,  and  Hate. 
Oh,  Earth  !  thy  hour  was  come  !  the  last  elect 
Was  born,  complete  the  number  of  the  good, 
And  the  last  sand  fell  from  the  glass  of  Time. 
The  cup  of  guilt  was  full  up  to  the  brim ; 
And  Mercy,  weary  with  beseeching,  had 
Retired  behind  the  sword  of  Justice,  red 
With  ultimate  and  unrepenting  wrath  ; 
But  man  knew  not :  he  o'er  his  bowl  laughed  loud, 
And,  prophesying,  said,  '  To-morrow  shall 
As  this  day  be,  and  more  abundant  still !  " 
As  thou  shalt  hear— But,  hark  !  the  trumpet  sounds, 
And  calls  to  evening  song  ;  for,  though  with  hymn 
Eternal,  course  succeeding  course  extol 
In  presence  of  the  incarnate,  holy  God, 
And  celebrate  his  never-ending  praise, — 
Duly  at  morn  and  night,  the  multitudes 
Of  men  redeemed,  and  angels,  all  the  hosts 


316  THE   COURSE   OF  TIME. 

Of  glory,  join  in  universal  song, 

And  pour  celestial  harmony,  from  harps 

Above  all  number,  eloquent  and  sweet, 

Above  all  thought  of  melody  conceived. 

And  now  behold  the  fair  inhabitants, 

Delightful  sight !  from  numerous  business  turn, 

And  round  and  round  through  all  the  extent  of  blisi 

Towards  the  temple  of  Jehovah  bow, 

And  worship  reverently  before  his  face  ! 

Pursuits  are  various  here,  suiting  all  tastes, 
Though  holy  all,  and  glorifying  God. 
Observe  yon  band  pursue  the  sylvan  stream  : 
Mounting  among  the  cliffs,  they  pull  the  flower, 
Springing  as  soon  as  pulled,  and,  marvelling,  pry 
Into  its  veins,  and  circulating  blood, 
And  wondrous  mimicry  of  higher  life  ; 
Admire  its  colors,  fragrance,  gentle  shape ; 
And  thence  admire  the  God  who  made  it  so — 
So  simple,  complex,  and  so  beautiful. 

Behold  yon  other  band,  in  airy  robes 
Of  bliss.     They  weave  the  sacred  bower  of  rose 
And  myrtle  shade,  and  shadowy  verdant  bay, 
And  laurel,  towering  high  ;  and  round  their  song, 
The  pink  and  lily  bring,  and  amaranth, 
Narcissus  sweet,  and  jassamine  ;  and  bring 
The  clustering  vine,  stooping  with  flower  and  fruit 
The  peach  and  orange,  and  the  sparkling  stream, 
Warbling  with  nectar  to  their  lips  unasked  ; 
And  talk  the  while  of  everlasting  love. 

On  yonder  hill,  behold  another  band, 
Of  piercing,  steady,  intellectual  eye, 
And  spacious  forehead  of  sublimest  thought. 
They  reason  deep  of  present,  future,  past ; 


BOOK    VI. 


317 


And  trace  effect  to  cause  ;  and  meditate 
On  the  eternal  laws  of  God,  which  bind 
Circumference  to  centre  ;  and  survey, 
With  optic  tubes,  that  fetch  remotest  stars 
Near  them,  the  systems  circling  round  immense 
Innumerous.     See  how,— as  he,  the  sage, 
Among  the  most  renowned  in  days  of  Time, 
Renowned  for  large,  capacious  holy  soul, 
Demonstrates  clearly  motion,  gravity, 
Attraction  and  repulsion,  still  opposed ; 
And  dips  into  the  deep,  original, 
Unknown,  mysterious  elements  of  things, — 
See  how  the  face  of  every  auditor 
Expands  with  admiration  of  the  skill, 
Omnipotence,  and  boundless  love  of  God  ! 

These  other,  sitting  near  the  tree  of  life, 
In  robes  of  linen  flowing  white  and  clean, 
Of  holiest  aspect,  of  divinest  soul, 
Angels  and  men,— into  the  glory  look 
Of  the  Redeeming  Love,  and  turn  the  leaves 
Of  man's  redemption  o'er,  the  secret  leaves, 
Which  none  on  earth  were  found  worthy  to  open ; 
And,  as  they  read  the  mysteries  divine, 
The  endless  mysteries  of  salvation,  wrought 
By  God's  incarnate  Son,  they  humbler  bow 
Before  the  Lamb,  and  glow  with  warmer  love. 

These  other,  there  relaxed  beneath  the  shade 
Of  yon  embowering  palms,  with  friendship  smile, 
And  talk  of  ancient  days,  and  young  pursuits, 
Of  dangers  passed,  of  godly  triumphs  won 
And  sing  the  legends  of  their  native  land, 
Less  pleasing  far  than  this  their  Father's  house. 

Behold  that  other  band,  half  lifted  up 
Between  the  hill  and  dale,  reclined  beneath 
27* 


118  THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 

The  shadow  of  impending  rocks,  'mong  streams, 
And  thundering  waterfalls,  and  waving  boughs ; 
That  band  of  countenance  sublime  and  sweet, 
Whose  eye,  with  piercing,  intellectual  ray, 
Now  beams  severe,  or  now  bewildered  seems, 
Left  rolling  wild,  or  fixed  in  idle  gaze, 
While  Fancy  and  the  Soul  are  far  from  homo ; 
These  hold  the  pencil,  art  divine !  and  throw 
Before  the  eye  remembered  scenes  of  love; 
Each  picturing  to  each  the  hills,  and  skies, 
And  treasured  stories  of  the  world  he  left ; 
Or,  gazing  on  the  scenery  of  heaven, 
They  dip  their  hand  in  color's  native  well, 
And,  on  the  everlasting  canvass,  dash 
Figures  of  glory,  imagery  divine, 
With  grace  and  grandeur  in  perfection  knit. 

But,  whatso'er  the  spirits  blessed  pursue, 
Where'er  they  go,  whatever  sights  they  see 
Of  glory  and  bliss  through  all  the  tracts  of  heaven,- 
The  centre,  still,  the  figure  eminent, 
Whither  they  ever  turn,  on  whom  all  eyes 
Repose  with  infinite  delight,  is  God 
And  his  incarnate  Son,  the  Lamb  once  slain 
On  Calvary,  to  ransom  ruined  men. 

None  idle  here.     Look  where  thou  wilt,  they  aL 
Are  active,  all  engaged  in  meet  pursuit ; 
Not  happy  else.     Hence  is  it  that  the  song 
Of  heaven  is  ever  new ;  for  daily  thus, 
And  nightly  new  discoveries  are  made 
Of  God's  unbounded  wisdom,  power,  and  love, 
Which  give  the  understanding  larger  room, 
And  swell  the  hymn  with  ever-growing  praise. 

Behold  they  cease  !  and  every  face  to  God 
Turns ;  and  we  pause  from  high  poetic  theme. 


BOOK    VI.  319 

Not  worthy  least  of  being  sung  iu  heaven; 
And  on  unveiled  Godhead  look  from  this, 
Our  oft  frequented  hill.     He  takes  the  harp, 
Nor  needs  to  seek  befitting  phrase :  unsought, 
Numbers  harmonious  roll  along  the  lyre ; 
As  river  in  its  native  bed,  they  flow 
Spontaneous,  flowing  with  the  tide  of  thought. 
He  takes  the  harp — a  bard  of  Judah  leads, 
This  night,  the  boundless  song,  the  bard  that  once. 
When  Israel's  king  was  sad  and  sick  to  death, 
A  message  brought  of  fifteen  added  years. 
Before  the  Throne  he  stands  sublime,  in  robes 
Of  glory ;  and  now  his  fingers  wake  the  chords 
To  praise,  which  we  and  all  in  heaven  repeat. 


Harps  of  Eternity  !  begin  the  song, 
Redeemed  and  angel  harps  !  begin  to  God, 
Begin  the  anthem  ever  sweet  and  new, 
While  I  extol  Him,  holy,  just,  and  good. 
Life,  beauty,  light,  intelligence,  and  love 
Eternal,  uncreated,  infinite  ! 
Unsearchable  Jehovah  !  God  of  truth  ! 
Maker,  upholder,  governor  of  all ! 
Thyself  unmade,  ungoverned,  unupheld  ! 
Omnipotent,  unchangeable,  Great  God ! 
Exhaustless  fulness  !  giving  unimpaired  ! 
Bounding  immensity,  unspread,  unbound  ! 
Highest  and  best !  beginning,  middle,  end  ! 
All-seeing  Eye  !  all-seeing,  and  unseen  ! 
Hearing,  unheard  !  all-knowing,  and  unknown  ! 
Above  all  praise  !  above  all  height  of  thought ! 
Proprietor  of  immortality  ! 
Glory  ineffable  !  bliss  underived  ! 
Of  old  thou  buildst  thy  throne  on  righteousness, 
Before  the  morning  Stars  their  song  began, 


820  THE   COUKSE   OF  TIMB. 

Or  silence  heard  the  voice  of  praise.     Thou  laidst 

Eternity's  foundation  stone,  and  sawst 

Life  and  existence  out  of  Thee  begin. 

Mysterious  more,  the  more  displayed,  where  still 

Upon  thy  glorious  Throne  thou  sitst  alone, 

Hast  sat  alone,  and  shalt  for  ever  sit 

Alone,  Invisible,  Immortal  One  ! 

Behind  essential  brightness  uribeheld. 

Incomprehensible  !  what  weight  shall  weigh, 

What  measure  measure  Thee  !    What  know  we  more 

Of  Thee,  what  need  to  know,  than  Thou  hast  taught, 

And  bidst  us  still  repeat,  at  morn  and  even  ? — 

God  !  Everlasting  Father  !  Holy  One  ! 

Our  God,  our  Father,  our  Eternal  All ! 

Source  whence  we  came,  and  whither  we  return  ; 

Who  made  our  spirits,  who  our  bodies  made, 

Who  made  the  heaven,  who  made  the  flowery  land, 

Who  made  all  made,  who  orders,  governs  all, 

Who  walks  upon  the  wind,  who  holds  the  wave 

In  hollow  of  thy  hand,  whom  thunders  wait, 

Whom  tempests  serve,  whom  naming  fires  obev. 

Who  guides  the  circuit  of  the  endless  years, 

And  sitst  on  high,  and  makest  creation's  top 

Thy  footstool,  and  beholdst,  below  Thee,  all — 

All  naught,  all  less  than  naught,  and  vanity. 

Like  transient  dust  that  hovers  on  the  scale, 

Ten  thousand  worlds  are  scattered  in  thy  breath, 

Thou  sitst  on  high,  and  mc-asurest  destinies, 

And  days,  and  months,  and  wide-revolving  years, 

And  dost  according  to  thy  holy  will ; 

And  none  can  stay  thy  hand,  and  none  withhold 

Thy  glory  ;  for  in  judgment,  Thou,  as  well 

As  mercy,  art  exalted,  day  and  night. 

Past,  present,  future,  magnify  thy  name. 

Thy  works  all  praise  Thee,  all  thy  angels  praise, 

Thy  saints  adore,  and  on  thv  altars  burn 


BOOK    VI.  321 

The  fragrant  incense  of  perpetual  love. 

They   praise   Thee  now,  their   hearts,  their  voices 

praise, 

And  swell  the  rapture  of  the  glorious  song. 
Harp  !  lift  thy  voice  on  high  !  shout,  angels,  shout ! 
And  loudest,  ye  redeemed  !  glory  to  God, 
And  to  the  Lamb  who  bought  us  with  his  blood, 
From  every  kindred,  nation,  people,  tongue  ; 
And  washed,  and  sanctified,  and  saved  our  souls  ; 
And  gave  us  robes  of  linen  pure,  and  crowns 
Of  life,  and  made  us  kings  and  priests  to  God. 
Shout  back  to  ancient  Time  !     Sing  loud,  and  wave 
Your  palms  of  triumph  !  sing,  Where  is  thy  sting, 
O  Death  !  where  is  thy  victory,  O  Grave  ! 
Thanks  be  to  God,  eternal  thanks,  who  gave 
Us  victory  through  Jesus  Christ,  Our  Lord. 
Harp  !  lift  thy  voice  on  high  !  shout,  angels,  shout  I 
And  loudest,  ye  redeemed  !  glory  to  God, 
And  to  the  Lamb,  all  glory  and  all  praise, 
All  glory  and  all  praise,  at  morn  and  even, 
That  come  and  go  eternally,  and  find 
Us  happy  still,  and  Thee  for  ever  blessed ! 
Glory  to  God  and  to  the  Lamb.     Amen. 
For  ever,  and  for  evermore.    Amen. 

And  those  who  stood  upon  the  sea  of  glass, 
And  those  who  stood  upon  the  battlements 
And  lofty  towers  of  New  Jerusalem, 
And  those  who  circling  stood,  bowing  afar, 
Exalted  on  the  everlasting  hills, 
Thousands  of  thousands,  thousands  infinite, 
"With  voice  of  boundless  love,  answered,  Amen. 
And  through  Eternity,  near  and  remote, 
The  worlds,  adoring,  echoed  back,  Amen  ; 
And  God  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 
The  One  Eternal,  smiled  superior  bliss  ! 


322  THE    COURSE   OF   TIME. 

And  every  eye,  and  every  face  in  heaven, 
Reflecting  and  reflected,  beamed  with  love. 

Nor  did  he  not,  the  Virtue  new  arrived, 
From  Godhead  gain  an  individual  smile, 
Of  high  acceptance,  and  of  welcome  high, 
And  confirmation  evermore  in  good. 
Meantime  the  landscape  glowed  with  holy  joy. 
Zephyr,  with  wing  dipped  from  the  well  of  life, 
Sporting  through  Paradise,  shed  living  dews ; 
The  flowers,  the  spicy  shrubs,  the  lawns,  refreshed, 
Breathed  their  selectest  balm,  breathed  odors,  such 
As  angels  love ;  and  all  the  trees  of  heaven, 
The  cedar,  pine,  and  everlasting  oak, 
Rejoicing  on  the  mountains,  clapped  their  hards. 


COURSE     OF     TIME 

BOOK  vn. 


ANALYSIS   OF  BOOK  VH. 


After  the  Hymn  of  praise,  the  Bard  resumes  his  story.  He  re- 
lates  the  destruction  of  the  Earth,  the  Resurrection  of  the  dead, 
and  the  Transformation  of  the  living. 

On  the  morn  of  the  final  day  every  appearance  of  Nature  was 
as  usual ;  but  at  mid-day  universal  darkness  prevailed,  and 
every  action  and  moiion  ceased  ;  an  Angel  from  Heaven  pro 
claimed  the  end  of  Time,  and  another  blew  the  Trump  of  God, 
at  which  the  dead  awoke  and  the  living  were  changed. 

The  remainder  of  the  Book  is  occupied  with  a  description  of 
circumstances  connected  with  the  momentous  scene  ;  the  liv 
ing  surprised  in  the  midst  of  their  thousand  various  occupations 
of  study,  labor,  pleasure,  crime  ;  the  dead  of  every  age  and 
nation  springing  to  life,  in  the  wilderness,  the  cultivated  field, 
amid  ancient  ruins,  in  the  streets  of  populous  c;  aes,  trorn  the 
depths  of  the  mighty  waters. 


THE 

COURSE     OF     TIME. 

BOOK    VII. 

As  one  who  meditates  at  evening  tide, 
Wandering  alone  by  voiceless  solitudes, 
And  flies,  in  fancy,  far  beyond  the  bounds 
Of  visible  and  vulgar  things,  and  things 
Discovered  hitherto,  pursuing  tracts 
As  yet  untravclled  and  unknown,  through  vast 
Of  new  and  sweet  imaginings ;  if  chance 
Some  airy  harp,  waked  by  the  gentle  sprites 
Of  twilight,  or  light  touch  of  sylvan  maid, 
In  soft  succession  fall  upon  his  ear, 
And  fill  the  desert  with  its  heavenly  tones ; 
He  listens  intense,  and  pleased  exceedingly, 
And  wishes  it  may  never  stop ;  yet  when 
It  stops,  grieves  not;  but  to  his  former  thoughts 
With  fondest  haste  returns  :  so  did  the  Seer, 
So  did  his  audience,  after  worship  passed, 
And  praise  in  heaven,  return  to  sing,  to  hear 
Of  man,  not  worthy  less  the  sacred  lyre, 
Or  the  attentive  ear  ;  and  thus  the  bard, 
Not  unbesought,  again  resumed  his  song. 

In  customed  glory  bright,  that  morn,  the  Sun 
Rose,  visiting  the  earth  with  light  and  heat, 
And  joy ;  and  seemed  as  full  of  youth  and  strong 
To  mount  the  steep  of  heaven,  as  when  the  Stars 
28 


326  THE  couasE  OF  TIME. 

Of  morning  sung  to  his  first  dawn,  and  night 
Fled  from  his  face  ;  the  spacious  sky  received 
Him,  blushing  as  a  bride,  when  on  her  looked 
The  bridegroom  ;  and,  spread  out  beneath  his  eye, 
Earth  smiled.     Up  to  his  warm  embrace,  the  Dews, 
That  all  night  long  had  wept  his  absence,  flew  ; 
The  herbs  and  flowers  their  fragrant  stores  unlocked, 
And  gave  the  wanton  breeze,  that,  newly  woke, 
Revelled  in  sweets,  and  from  its  wings  shook  health, 
A  thousand  grateful  smells  ;  the  joyous  woods 
Dried  in  his  beams  their  locks,  wet  with  the  drops 
Of  night ;  and  all  the  sons  of  music  sung 
Their  matin  song — from  arbored  bower,  the  thrush, 
Concerting  with  the  lark  that  hymned  on  high. 
On  the  green  hill  the  flocks,  and  in  the  vale 
The  herds,  rejoiced  ;  and,  light  of  heart,  the  hind 
Eyed  amorously  the  milk-maid  as  she  passed, 
Not  heedless,  though  she  looked  another  way. 

No  sign  was  there  of  change.     All  nature  moved 
In  wonted  harmony.     Men,  as  they  met, 
In  morning  salutation,  praised  the  day, 
And  talked  of  common  things.     The  husbandman 
Prepared  the  soil,  and  silver-tongued  Hope 
Promised  another  harvest.     In  the  streets, 
Each  wishing  to  make  profit  of  his  neighbor, 
Merchants,  assembling,  spoke  of  trying  times, 
Of  bankruptcies,  and  markets  glutted  full, 
Or,  crowding  to  the  beach, — where,  to  their  ear, 
The  oath  of  foreign  accent,  and  the  noise 
Uncouth  of  trade's  rough  sons,  made  music  sweet, 
Elate  with  certain  gain, — beheld  the  bark, 
Expected  long,  enriched  with  other  climes, 
Into  the  harbor  safely  steer  ;  or  saw, 
Parting  with  many  a  weeping  farewell  sad, 
And  blessing  uttered  rude,  and  sacred  pledge, 


327 


The  rich-laden  carack,  bound  to  distant  shore, 

And  hopefully  talked  of  her  coming  back, 

With  richer  freight ;  or  sitting  at  the  desk, 

In  calculation  deep  and  intricate 

Of  loss  and  profit  balancing,  relieved, 

At  intervals,  the  irksome  task,  with  thought 

Of  future  ease,  retired  in  villa  snug. 

With  subtle  look,  amid  his  parchments,  sat 
The  lawyer,  weaving  his  sophistries  for  court 
To  meet  at  mid- day.     On  his  weary  couch, 
Fat  Luxury,  sick  of  the  night's  debauch, 
Lay  groaning,  fretful  at  the  obtrusive  beam, 
That  through  his  lattice  peeped  derisively. 
The  restless  miser  bad  begun  again 
To  count  his  heaps.     Before  her  toilet  stood 
The  fair,  and,  as  with  guileful  skill  she  decked 
Her  loveliness,  thought  of  the  coming  ball. 
New  lovers,  or  the  sweeter  nuptial  night. 
And  evil  men,  of  desperate,  lawless  life, 
By  oath  of  deep  damnation  leagued  to  ill, 
Remorselessly,  fled  from  the  face  of  day, 
Against  the  innocent  their  counsel  held, 
Plotting  unpardonable  deeds  of  blood, 
And  villanies  of  fearful  magnitude. 
Despots,  secured  behind  a  thousand  bolts, 
The  workmanship  of  fear,  forged  chains  for  man, 
Senates  were  meeting,  statesmen  loudly  talked 
Of  national  resources,  war  and  peace, 
And  sagely  balanced  empires  soon  to  end ; 
And  faction's  jaded  minions,  by  the  page 
Paid  for  abuse  and  oft-repeated  lies, 
In  daily  prints,  the  thoroughfare  of  news, 
For  party  schemes,  made  interest,  under  cloak 
Of  liberty,  and  right,  and  public  weal. 
In  holy  conclave,  bishops  spoke  of  tithes 


828  THE   COURSE   OF   TIMB, 

And  of  the  awful  wickedness  of  men. 

Intoxicate  with  sceptres,  diadems, 

And  universal  rule,  and  panting  hard 

For  fame,  heroes  were  leading  on  the  brave 

To  battle.     Men,  in  science  deeply  read, 

And  academic  theory,  foretold 

Improvements  vast ;  and  learned  sceptics  proved 

That  earth  should  with  eternity  endure — 

Concluding  madly,  that  there  was  no  God. 

No  sign  of  change  appeared  :  to  every  man 
That  day  seemed  as  the  past.     From  noontide  path 
The  sun  looked  gloriously  on  earth,  and  all 
Her  scenes  of  giddy  folly  smiled  secure, 
When  suddenly,  alas,  fair  earth  !  the  sun 
Was  wrapped  in  darkness,  and  his  beams  returned 
Up  to  the  throne  of  God,  and  over  all 
The  earth  came  night,  moonless  and  starless  night. 
Nature  stood  still.     The  seas  and  rivers  stood, 
And  all  the  winds  and  every  living  thing. 
The  cataract,  that,  like  a  giant  wroth, 
Rushed  down  impetuously,  as  sei/ed  at  once, 
By  sudden  frost,  with  all  his  hoary  locks, 
Stood  still ;  and  beasts  of  every  kind  stood  still. 
A  deep  and  dreadful  silence  reigned  alone  ! 
Hope  died  in  every  breast,  and  on  all  men 
Came  fear  and  trembling.   None  to  his  neighbor  spoke, 
Husband  thought  not  of  wife,  nor  of  her  child 
The  mother,  nor  friend  of  friend,  nor  foe  of  foe. 
In  horrible  suspense  all  mortals  stood  ; 
And,  as  they  stood  and  listened,  chariots  were  heju  d 
Kolling  in  heaven.     Revealed  in  naming  lire, 
The  angel  of  God  appeared  in  stature  vast, 
Blazing,  and,  lifting  up  his  hand  on  high, 
By  Him  that  lives  for  ever,  swore,  that  Time 
Should  be  no  more.     Throughout,  creation  heard 


BOOK  vn.  329 

And  sighed  ;  all  rivers,  lakes,  and  seas,  and  woods, 

Desponding  waste,  and  cultivated  vale, 

Wild  cave,  and  ancient  hill,  and  every  rock, 

Sighed.     Earth,  arrested  in  her  wonted  path, 

As  ox  struck  by  the  lifted  axe,  when  naught 

Was  feared,  in  all  her  entrails  deeply  groaned. 

A  universal  crash  was  heard,  as  if 

The  ribs  of  Nature  broke,  and  all  her  dark 

Foundations  failed  ;  and  deadly  paleness  sat 

On  every  face  of  man,  and  every  heart 

Grew  chill,  and  every  knee  his  fellow  smote. 

None  spoke,  none  stirred,  none  wept ;  for  horror  held 

All  motionless,  and  fettered  every  tongue. 

Again,  o'er  all  the  nations  silence  fell : 

And,  in  the  heavens,  robed  in  excessive  light, 

That  drove  the  thick  of  darkness  far  aside, 

And  walked  with  penetration  keen,  through  all 

The  abodes  of  men,  another  angel  stood, 

And  blew  the  trump  of  God  :  Awake,  ye  dead, 

Be  changed,  ye  living,  and  put  on  the  garb 

Of  immortality.     Awake,  arise  ! — 

The  God  of  judgment  comes  !     This  said  the  voice, 

And  Silence,  from  eternity  that  slept 

Beyond  the  sphere  of  the  creating  Word, 

And  all  the  noise  of  Time,  awakened,  heard 

Heaven  heard,  and  earth,  and  farthest  hell,  through 

all 

Her  regions  of  despair  ;  the  ear  of  Death 
Heard,  and  the  sleep  that  for  so  long  a  night 
Pressed  on  his  leaden  eyelids,  fled ;  and  all 
The  dead  awoke,  and  all  the  living  changed. 

Old  men,  that  on  their  staff,  bending,  had  leaned, 
Crazy  and  frail,  or  sat,  benumbed  with  age, 
In  weary  listlessness,  ripe  for  the  grave, 
Felt  through  their  sluggish  veins  and  withered  limba 
28* 


330  THE   COURSE    OP  TIME. 

New  vigoi  flow ;  the  wrinkled  face  grew  smooth ; 

Upon  the  head,  that  Time  had  razored  bare, 

Rose  bushy  locks ;  and  as  his  son  in  prime 

Of  strength  and  youth,  the  aged  father  stood. 

Changing  herself,  the  mother  saw  her  son 

Grow  up,  and  suddenly  put  on  the  form 

Of  manhood  ;  and  the  wretch  that  begging  sat, 

Limbless,  deformed,  at  corner  of  the  way, 

Unmindful  of  his  crutch,  in  joint  and  limb, 

Arose  complete ;  and  he,  that  on  the  bed 

Of  mortal  sickness,  worn  with  sore  distress, 

Lay  breathing  forth  his  soul  to  death,  felt  now 

The  tide  of  life  and  vigor  rushing  back  ; 

And,  looking  up,  beheld  his  weeping  wife, 

And  daughter  fond,  that  o'er  him,  bending,  stooped 

To  close  his  eyes.     The  frantic  madman,  too, 

In  whose  confused  brain  reason  had  lost 

Her  way,  long  driven  at  random  to  and  fro, 

Grew  sober,  and  his  manacles  fell  off. 

The  newly-sheeted  corpse  arose,  and  stared 

On  those  who  dressed  it ;  and  the  coffined  dead, 

That  men  were  bearing  to  the  tomb,  awoke, 

And  mingled  with  their  friends  ;  and  armies,  whici 

The  trump  surprised,  met  in  the  furious  shock 

Of  battle,  saw  the  bleeding  ranks,  new  fallen, 

Kise  up  at  once,  and  to  their  ghastly  cheeks 

lleturn  the  stream  of  life  in  healthy  flow  ; 

And  as  the  anatomist,  with  all  his  band 

Of  rude  disciples,  o'er  the  subject  hung, 

And  impolitely  hewed  his  way,  through  bones 

And  muscles  of  the  sacred  human  form, 

Exposing  barbarously  to  wanton  gaze, 

The  mysteries  of  nature,  joint  embraced 

His  kindred  joint,  the  wounded  flesh  grew  ap, 

Ajid  suddenly  the  injured  man  awoke, 

Among  their  hands,  and  stood  arrayed  complete 


fn  immortality — forgiving  scarce 
The  insult  offered  to  his  clay  in  death. 

That  was  the  hour,  long  wished  for  by  the  good, 
Of  universal  jubilee  to  all 

The  sons  of  bondage  ;  from  the  oppressor's  hand 
The  scourge  of  violence  fell,  and  from  his  back, 
Healed  of  its  stripes,  the  burden  of  the  slave. 

The  youth  of  great  religious  soul,  who  sat 
Retired  in  voluntary  loneliness, 
In  reverie  extravagant  now  wrapped, 
Or  poring  now  on  book  of  ancient  date, 
With  filial  awe,  and  dipping  oft  his  pen 
To  write  immortal  things  ;  to  pleasure  deaf, 
And  joys  of  common  men,  working  his  way 
With  mighty  energy,  not  uninspired, 
Through  all  the  mines  of  thought ;  reckless  of  pain, 
And  weariness,  and  wasted  health,  the  scoff 
Of  Pride,  or  growl  of  Envy's  hellish  brood  ; 
While  Fancy,  voyaged  far  beyond  the  bounds 
Of  years  revealed,  heard  many  a  future  age, 
With  commendation  loud,  repeat  his  name, — 
False  prophetess  !   the  day  of  change  was  ccine, — 
Behind  the  shadow  of  eternity, 
He  saw  his  visions  set  of  earthly  fame, 
For  ever  set ;  nor  sighed,  while  through  his  veins, 
In  lighter  current,  ran  immortal  life  ; 
His  form  renewed  to  undecaying  health; 
To  undecaying  health  his  soul,  erewhile 
Not  tuned  amiss  to  God's  eternal  praise. 

All  men,  in  field  and  city,  by  the  way, 
On  land  or  sea,  lolling  in  gorgeous  hall, 
Or  plying  at  the  oar  ;  crawling  in  rags 
Obscure,  or  dazzling  in  embroidered  gold ; 


,-,32  THE   COURSE    OF   TIME. 

Alone,  in  companies,  at  home,  abroad  ; 
In  wanton  merriment  surprised  and  taken, 
Or  kneeling  reverently  in  act  of  prayer  ; 
Or  cursing  recklessly,  or  uttering  lies  ; 
Or  lapping  greedily,  from  slander's  cup, 
The  blood  of  reputation  ;  or  between 
Friendships  and  brotherhoods  devising  strife ; 
Or  plotting  to  defile  a  neighbor's  bed ; 
In  duel  met  with  dagger  of  revenge  ; 
Or  casting  on  the  widow's  heritage 
The  eye  of  covetousness  ;  or,  with  full  hand, 
On  mercy's  noiseless  errands,  unobserved, 
Administering  ;  or  meditating  fraud 
And  deeds  of  horrid  barbarous  intent ; 
In  full  pursuit  of  unexperienced  hope, 
Fluttering  along  the  flowery  path  of  youth ; 
Or  steeped  in  disappointment's  bitterness, 
The  fevered  cup  that  guilt  must  ever  drink, 
When  parched  and  fainting  on  the  road  of  ill ; 
Beggar  and  king,  the  clown  and  haughty  lord ; 
The  venerable  sage,  and  empty  fop  ; 
The  ancient  matron,  and  the  rosy  bride  ; 
The  virgin  chaste,  and  shrivelled  harlot  vile  ; 
The  savage  fierce,  and  man  of  science  mild ; 
The  good  and  evil,  in  a  moment,  all 
Were  changed,  corruptible  to  incorrupt, 
And  mortal  to  immortal,  ne'er  to  change. 

And  now,  descending  from  the  bowers  of  heaven, 
Soft  airs  o'er  all  the  earth,  spreading,  were  heard, 
*  And  Hallelujahs  sweet,  the  harmony 
Of  righteous  souls  that  came  to  repossess 
Their  long  neglected  bodies  :  and  anon 
Upon  the  ear  fell  horribly  the  sound 
Of  cursing,  and  the  yells  of  damned  despair, 
Uttered  by  felon  spirits,  that,  the  trump 


BOOK  vn.  333 

Had  summoned  from  the  burning  glooms  of  hell 
To  put  their  bodies  on,  reserved  for  wo. 

Now,  starting  up  among  the  living  changed, 
Appeared  innumerous  the  risen  dead. 
Each  particle  of  dust  was  claimed  :  the  turf, 
For  ages  trod  beneath  the  careless  foot 
Of  men,  rose,  organized  in  human  form  ; 
The  monumental  stones  were  rolled  away ; 
The  doors  of  death  were  opened  ;  and  in  the  dark 
And  loathsome  vault,  and  silent  charnel  house, 
Moving,  were  heard  the  mouldered  bones,  that  sought 
Their  proper  place.     Instinctive,  every  soul 
Flew  to  its  clayey  part ;  from  grass-grown  mould, 
The  nameless  spirit  took  its  ashes  up, 
Reanimate  ;  and,  merging  from  beneath 
The  nattered  marble,  undistinguished  rose 
The  great,  nor  heeded  once  the  lavish  rhyme, 
And  costly  pomp  of  sculptured  garnish  vain. 
The  Memphian  mummy,  that,  from  age  to  age 
Descending,  bought  and  sold  a  thousand  times, 
In  hall  of  curious  antiquary  stowed, 
"Wrapped  in  mysterious  weeds,  the  wondrous  theme 
Of  many  an  erring  tale,  shook  off  its  rags  ; 
And  the  brown  son  of  Egypt  stood  beside 
The  European,  his  last  purchaser. 
In  vale  remote,  the  hermit  rose,  surprised 
At  crowds  that  rose  around  him,  where  he  thought 
His  slumbers  had  been  single  ;  and  the  bard, 
Who  fondly  covenanted  with  his  friend, 
To  lay  his  bones  beneath  the  sighing  bough 
Of  some  old  lonely  tree,  rising,  was  pressed 
By  multitudes  that  claimed  their  proper  dust 
From  the  same  spot ;  and  he,  that,  richly  hearsed, 
With  gloomy  garniture  of  purchased  wo, 
Embalmed,  in  princely  sepulchre  was  laid. 


334  THE   COUKSE   OF  TIME. 

Apart  from  vulgar  men,  built  nicely  round 

And  round  by  the  proud  heir,  who  blushed  to  think 

His  father's  lordly  clay  should  ever  mix 

With  peasant  dust, — saw  by  his  side  awake 

The  clown  that  long  had  slumbered  in  his  arms. 


The  family  tomb,  to  whose  devouring  mouth 
Descended  sire  and  son,  age  after  age, 
In  long,  unbroken,  hereditary  line, 
Poured  forth  at  once,  the  ancient  father  rude, 
And  all  his  offspring  of  a  thousand  years. 
Refreshed  from  sweet  repose,  awoke  the  man 
Of  charitable  life — awoke  and  sung  : 
And  from  his  prison  house,  slowly  and  sad, 
As  if  unsatisfied  with  holding  near 
Communion  with  the  earth,  the  miser  drew 
His  carcass  forth,  and  gnashed  his  teeth,  and  howle  i 
Unsolaced  by  his  gold  and  silver  then. 
From  simple  stone  in  lonely  wilderness, 
That  hoary  lay,  o'er-lettered  by  the  hand 
Of  oft-fretpaenting  pilgrim,  who  had  taught 
The  willow  tree  to  weep,  at  morn  and  even, 
Over  the  sacred  spot, — the  martyr  saint, 
To  song  of  seraph  harp,  triumphant,  rose, 
Well  pleased  that  he  had  suffered  to  the  death. 
"  The  cloud-capped  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces," 
As  sung  the  bard  by  Nature's  hand  anointed, 
In  whose  capacious  giant  nun.bers  rolled 
The  passions  of  old  Time,  fell  lumbering  down. 
All  cities  fell,  and  every  work  of  man, 
And  gave  their  portion  forth  of  human  dust, 
Touched  by  the  mortal  finger  of  decay. 
Tree,  herb,  and  flower,  and  every  fo\vl  of  heavoix, 
And  fish,  and  animal,  the  wild  and  tame, 
Forthwith  dissolving,  crumbled  into  dust. 


BOOK.  vii.  335 

Alas !  ye  sons  of  strength,  ye  ancient  oaks, 
Ye  holy  pines,  ye  elms,  and  cedars  tall, 
Like  towers  of  God,  far  seen  on  Carmel  mount 
Or  Lebanon,  that  waved  your  boughs  on  high, 
And  laughed  at  all  the  winds, — your  hour  was  come  ! 
Ye  laurels,  ever  green,  and  bays,  that  wont 
To  wreath  the  patriot's  and  the  poet's  brow, 
Ye  myrtle  bowers,  and  groves  of  sacred  shade, 
Where  Music  ever  sung,  and  Zephyr  fanned 
His  airy  wing,  wet  with  the  dews  of  life, 
And  Spring  forever  smiled,  the  fragrant  haunt 
Of  Love,  and  Health,  and  ever-dancing  Mirth, — 
Alas  !  how  suddenly  your  verdure  died, 
And  ceased  your  minstrelsy,  to  sing  no  more  ! 
Ye  flowers  of  beauty,  penciled  by  the  hand 
Of  God,,  who  annually  renewed  your  birth, 
To  gem  the  virgin  robes  of  Nature  chaste, 
Ye  sinking-featured  daughters  of  the  Sun  ! 
Fairer  than  queenly  bride,  by  Jordan's  stream 
Leading  jour  gentle  lives,  retired,  unseen  ; 
Or  on  the  sainted  cliffs  on  Zion  hill 
Wandering,  and  holding  with  the  heavenly  dews, 
In  holy  revelry,  your  nightly  loves, 
Watched  by  the  stars,  and  offering,  every  morn, 
Your  incense,  grateful  both  to  God  and  man  ; — 
Ye  lovely,  gentle  things,  alas  !  no  spring 
Shall  ever  wake  you  now  !  ye  withered  all ! 
All  in  a  moment  drooped,  and  on  your  roots 
The  grasp  of  everlasting  winter  seized  ! 
Children  of  song,  ye  birds  that  dwelt  in  air, 
And  stole  your  notes  from  angel's  lyres,  and  first 
In  levee  of  the  morn,  with  eulogy 
Ascending,  hailed  the  advent  of  the  dawn  ; 
Or,  roosted  on  the  pensive  evening  bough, 
In  melancholy  numbers,  sung  the  day 
To  rest ;  — your  little  wings,  failing,  dissolved. 


333  THE    COURSE   OF   TIME. 

En  middle  air,  and  on  your  harmony 
Perpetual  silence  fell !     Nor  did  his  wing, 
That  sailed  in  track  of  gods  sublime,  and  fanned 
The  sun,  avail  the  eagle  then ;  quick  smitten, 
His  plumage  \vithered  in  meridian  height, 
And,  in  the  valley,  sunk  the  lordly  bird, 
A  clod  of  clay.     Before  the  ploughman  fell 
His  steers,  and  in  midway  the  furrow  left. 
The  shepherd  saw  his  flocks  around  him  turn 
To  dust.     Beneath  his  rider  fell  the  steed 
To  ruins ;  and  the  lion  in  his  den 
Grew  cold  and  stiff,  or  in  the  furious  chase, 
With  timid  fawn,  that  scarcely  missed  his  paws. 
On  earth  no  living  thing  was  seen  but  men, 
New-changed,  or  rising  from  the  opening  tomb. 

Athens,  and  Rome,  and  Babylon,  and  Tyre, 
And  she  that  sat  on  Thames,  queen  of  the  seas, 
Cities  once  famed  on  earth,  convulsed  through  all 
Their  mighty  ruins,  threw  their  millions  forth. 
Palmyra's  dead,  where  Desolation  sat, 
From  age  to  age,  well  pleased,  in  solitude, 
And  silence,  save  when  traveller's  foot,  or  owl 
Of  night,  or  fragment  mouldering  down  to  dust, 
Broke  faintly  on  his  desert  ear, — awoke. 
And  Salem,  holy  city !  where  the  Prince 
Of  Life,  by  death,  a  second  life  secured 
To  man,  and  with  him,  from  the  grave,  redeemed, 
A  chosen  number  brought,  to  retinue 
His  great  ascent  on  high,  and  give  sure  pledge, 
That  death  was  foiled, — her  generations,  now, 
Gave  up,  of  kings  and  priests,  and  Pharisees ; 
Nor  even  the  Sadducee,  who  fondly  said, 
No  morn  of  resurrection  e'er  should  come, 
Could  sit  the  summons ;  to  his  ear  did  reach 
The  trumpet's  voice,  and,  ill  prepared  for  what 


BOOK  vn.  337 

Hu  oft  had  proved  should  never  be,  he  rose 
Reluctantly,  and  on  his  face  began 
To  burn  eternal  shame.    The  cities,  too, 
Of  old,  ensepulchred  beneath  the  flood, 
Or  deeply  slumbering  under  mountains  huge, 
That  Earthquake,  servant  of  the  wrath  of  Ocd, 
Had  on  her  wicked  population  thrown ; 
And  marts  of  busy  trade,  long  ploughed  and  sown. 
By  history  unrecorded,  or  the  song 
Of  bard,  yet  not  forgotten  their  wickedness, 
In  heaven ; — poured  forth  their  ancient  multitudes, 
That  vainly  wished  their  sleep  had  never  broke. 
From  battle-fields,  where  men  by  millions  met 
To  murder  each  his  fellow,  and  make  sport 
To  kings  and  heroes,  things  long  since  forgot, 
Innumerous  armies  rose,  unbannered  all, 
Unpanoplied,  unpraised ;  nor  found  a  prince, 
Or  general,  then,  to  answer  for  their  crimes. 
The  hero's  slaves,  and  all  the  scarlet  troops 
Of  antichrist,  and  all  that  fought  for  rule, — 
Many  high-sounding  names,  familiar  once 
On  earth,  and  praised  exceedingly,  but  now 
Familiar  most  in  hell,  their  dungeon  fit, 
Where  they  may  war  eternally  with  God's 
Almighty  thunderbolts,  and  win  them  pangs 
Of  keener  wo, — saw,  as  they  sprung  to  life, 
The  widow  and  the  orphan  ready  stand, 
And  helpless  virgin,  ravished  in  their  sport, 
To  plead  against  them  at  the  commg  doom. 
The  Roman  legions,  boasting  once,  how  loud  I 
Of  liberty,  and  fighting  bravely  o'er 
The  torrid  and  the  frigid  zone,  the  sands 
Of  burning  Egypt,  and  the  frozen  hills 
Of  snowy  Albion,  to  make  mankind 
Their  thralls,  untaught  that  he  who  made  or  kept 
A  slave  conli  ne'er  himself  be  trulv  free, — 
29 


338  THE    COURSE   OP   TIME. 

rhat  morning,  gathered  up  their  dust,  which,  lay 
Wide-scattered  over  half  the  globe  ;  nor  saw 
Their  eagled  banners  then.     Sennacherib's  hosts, 
Embattled  once  against  the  sons  of  God, 
With  insult  bold,  quick  as  the  noise  of  mirth 
And  revelry,  sunk  in  their  drunken  camp, 
When  death's  dark  angel,  at  the  dead  of  night, 
Their  vitals  touched,  and  made  each  pulse  stand  still : 
Awoke  in  sorrow ;  and  the  multitudes 
Of  Gog,  and  all  the  fated  crew  that  warred 
Against  the  chosen  saints,  in  the  last  days, 
At  Armageddon,  when  the  Lord  came  down, 
Mustering  his  host  on  Israel's  holy  hills, 
And,  from  the  treasures  of  his  snow  and  hail 
Rained  terror,  and  confusion  rained,  and  death, 
And  gave  to  all  the  beasts,  and  fowls  of  heaven, 
Of  captains'  flesh,  and  blood  of  men  of  war, 
A  feast  of  many  days, — revived,  and,  doomed 
To  second  death,  stood  in  Ilamonah's  vale. 

Nor  yet  did  all  that  fell  in  battle  rise, 
That  day,  to  wailing.     Here  and  there  were  seen 
The  patriot  bands  that  from  his  guilty  throne 
The  despot  tore,  unshackled  nations,  made 
The  prince  respect  the  people's  laws,  drove  back 
The  wave  of  proud  invasion,  and  rebuked 
The  frantic  fury  of  the  multitude, 
Rebelled,  and  fought  and  fell  for  liberty 
Right  understood,  true  heroes  in  the  speech 
Of  heaven,  where  words  express  the  thoughts  of  him 
Who  speaks  ;  not  undistinguished,  these,  though  few, 
That  morn,  arose,  with  joy  and  melody. 

All  woke — the  north  and  south  gave  up  their  dead- 
The  caravan,  that  in  mid -journey  sunk, 
With  all  Its  merchandise,  expected  long, 


339 


And  long  forgot,  ingulfed  beneath  the  tide 
Of  death,  that  the  wild  Spirit  of  the  winds 
Swept,  in  his  wrath,  along  the  wilderness, 
In  the  wide  desert, — woke,  and  saw  all  calm 
Around,  and  populous  with  risen  men ; 
Nor  of  his  relics  thought  the  pilgrim  then, 
Nor  merchant  of  his  silks  and  spiceries. 

And  he,  far  voyaging  from  home  and  friends, 
Too  curious,  with  a  mortal  eye  to  peep 
Into  the  secrets  of  the  Pole,  forbid 
By  nature,  whom  fierce  Winter  seized,  and  froze 
To  death,  and  wrapped  in  winding  sheet  of  ice, 
And  sung  the  requiem  of  his  shivering  ghost, 
With  the  loud  organ  of  his  mighty  winds, 
And  on  his  memory  threw  the  snow  of  ages, — 
Felt  the  long-absent  warmth  of  life  return, 
And  shook  the  frozen  mountain  from  his  bed. 

All  rose,  of  every  age,  of  every  clime. 
Adam  and  Eve,  the  great  progenitors 
Of  all  mankind,  fair  as  they  seemed,  that  morn, 
When  first  they  met  in  Paradise,  unfallen, 
Uncursed, — from  ancient  slumber  broke,  where  once, 
Euphrates  rolled  his  stream  ;  and  by  them  stood, 
In  stature  equal,  and  in  soul  as  large, 
Their  last  posterity,  though  poets  sung, 
And  sages  proved  them  far  degenerate. 

Blessed  sight  1  not  unobserved  by  angels,  nor 
Unpraised, — that  day,  'mong  men  of  every  tribe 
And  hue,  from  those  who  drank  of  Tenglio's  stream 
To  those  who  nightly  saw  the  Hermit  Cross, 
In  utmost  south  retired, — rising,  were  seen 
The  fair  and  ruddy  sons  of  Albion's  land, 
IJow  glad  ! — not  those  who  travelled  far,  and  sailed, 


340  THE   COURSE   OP  TIME. 

To  purchase  human  flesh,  or  wreath  the  yoke 

Of  vassalage  on  savage  liberty, 

Or  suck  large  fortune  from  the  sweat  of  slaves ; 

Or,  with  refined  knavery,  to  cheat, 

Politely  villanous,  untutored  men 

Out  of  their  property  ;  or  gather  shells, 

Intaglios  rude,  old  pottery,  and  store 

Of  mutilated  gods  of  stone,  and  scraps 

Of  barbarous  epitaphs  defaced,  to  be 

Among  the  learned  the  theme  of  warm  debate, 

And  infinite  conjectiire,  sagely  wrong  ! — 

But  those,  denied  to  self,  to  earthly  fame 

Denied,  and  earthly  wealth  ;  who  kindred  left, 

And  home,  and  ease,  and  all  the  cultured  joys, 

Conveniences,  and  delicate  delights, 

Of  ripe  society ;  in  the  great  cause 

Of  man's  salvation  greatly  valorous, — 

The  warriors  of  Messiah,  messengers 

Of  peace,  and  light,  and  life,  whose  eye,  unsealed, 

Saw  up  the  path  of  immortality, 

Far  into  bliss,  saw  men,  immortal  men, 

Wide  wandering  from  the  way :  eclipsed  in  night, 

Dark,  moonless,  moral  night ;  living  like  beasts, 

Like  beasts  descending  to  the  grave,  untaught 

Of  life  to  come,  unsanctified,  unsaved; 

Who,  strong,  though  seeming  weak;  who,  warlike 

though 

Unarmed  with  bow  and  sword ;  appearing  mad, 
Though  sounder  than  the  schools  alone  e'er  made 
The  doctor's  head ;  devote  to  God  and  truth, 
And  sworn  to  man's  eternal  weal,  beyond 
Repentance  sworn,  or  thought  of  turning  back ; 
And  casting  far  behind  all  earthly  care, 
All  countryships,  all  national  regards, 
And  enmities,  all  narrow  bourns  of  state 
And  selfish  policy ;  beneath  their  feet 


BOOK.  vn.  341 

Treading  all  fear  of  opposition  down, 

All  fear  of  danger,  of  reproach  all  fear, 

And  evil  tongues ;  went  forth,  from  Britain  went, 

A  noiseless  band  of  heavenly  soldiery, 

From  out  the  armory  of  God  equipped 

Invincible,  to  conquer  sin,  to  blow 

The  trump  of  freedom  in  the  despot's  ear, 

To  tell  the  bruted  slave  his  manhood  high, 

His  birthright  liberty,  and  in  his  hand 

To  put  the  writ  of  manumission,  signed 

By  God's  own  signature  ;  to  drive  away 

From  earth  the  dark,  infernal  legionry 

Of  superstition,  ignorance,  and  hell ; 

High  on  the  pagan  hills,  where  Satan  sat, 

Encamped,  and  o'er  the  subject  kingdoms  threw 

Perpetual  night,  to  plant  Immanuel's  cross, 

The  ensign  of  the  Gospel  blazing  round 

Immortal  truth ;  and,  in  the  wilderness 

Of  human  waste,  to  sow  eternal  life ; 

And  from  the  rock,  were  Sin,  with  horrid  yell, 

Devoured  its  victims  unredeemed,  to  raise 

The  melody  of  grateful  hearts  to  Heaven : 

To  falsehood,  truth;  to  pride,  humility; 

To  insult,  meekness ;  pardon  to  revenge ; 

To  stubborn  prejudice,  unwearied  zeal ; 

To  censure,  unaccusing  minds  ;  to  stripes, 

Long  suffering ;  to  want  of  all  things,  hope ; 

To  death,  assured  faith  of  life  to  come ; — 

Opposing.     These  great  worthies,  rising,  shone 

Through  all  the  tribes  and  nations  of  mankind, 

Like  Hesper,  glorious  once  among  the  stars 

Of  twilight,  and  around  them,  flocking,  stood, 

Arrayed  in  white,  the  people  they  had  saved. 

Great  Ocean  !  too,  that  morning,  thou  the  call 
Of  restitution  heardst,  and  reverently 
29* 


342  THE    COURSE   OF   TIME. 

To  the  last  tf  limpet's  voice,  in  silence,  listened. 

Great  Ocean  !  strongest  of  creation's  sons  ! 

Unconquerable,  unreposed,  untired, 

That  rolled  the  wild,  profound,  eternal  bass, 

In  Nature's  anthem,  and  made  music,  such 

As  pleased  the  ear  of  God !  original, 

Unmarred,  unfaded  work  of  Deity, 

And  unburlesqued  by  mortal's  puny  skill, 

From  age  to  age  enduring  and  unchanged, 

Majestical,  inimitable,  vast, 

Loud  uttering  satire,  day  and  night,  on  each 

Succeeding  race,  and  little  pompous  work 

Of  man  ! — unfallen,  religious,  holy  Sea ! 

Thou  bowedst   thy  glorious  head  to  none,  fearedst 

none, 

Heardst  none,  to  none  didst  honor,  but  to  God 
Thy  Maker,  only  worthy  to  receive 
Thy  great  obeisance  !     Undiscovered  Sea ! 
Into  thy  dark,  unknown,  mysterious  caves, 
And  secret  haunts,  unfathomably  deep 
Beneath  all  visible  retired,  none  went, 
And  came  again,  to  tell  the  wonders  there. 
Tremendous  Sea  !  what  time  thou  lifted  up 
Thy    waves    on    high,    and    with    thy  winds    and 

storms 

Strange  pastime  took,  and  shook  thy  mighty  sides 
Indignantly, — the  pride  of  navies  fell ; 
Beyond  the  arm  of  help,  unheard,  unseen, 
Sunk   friend   and  foe,   with    all    their  wealth   ami 

war ; 

And  on  thy  shores,  men  of  a  thousand  tribes, 
Polite  and  barbarous,  trembling  stood,  amazed, 
Confounded,  terrified,  and  thought  vast  thoughts 
Of  ruin,  boundlessness,  omnipotence, 
Infinitude,  eternity ;  and  thought 


BOOK    VII.  345 

And  wondered  still,  and  grasped,  and  grasped,  and 

grasped 

Again  ;  beyond  her  reach,  exerting  all 
The  soul,  to  take  thy  great  idea  in, 
To  comprehend  incomprehensible ; 
And  wondered  more,  and  felt  their  littleness, 
Self-purifying,  unpolluted  Sea ! 
Lover  unchangeable,  thy  faithful  breast 
For  ever  heaving  to  the  lovely  Moon, 
That,  like  a  shy  and  holy  virgin,  robed 
In  saintly  white,  walked  nightly  in  the  heavens, 
And  to  the  everlasting  serenade 
Gave  gracious  audience ;  nor  was  wooed  in  vain. 
That  morning,  thou,  that  slumbered  not  before, 
Nor  slept,  great  Ocean  !  laid  thy  waves  to  rest, 
And  hushed  thy  mighty  minstrelsy.     No  breath 
Thy  deep  composure  stirred,  no  fin,  no  oar; 
Like  beauty  newly  dead,  so  calm,  so  still, 
So  lovely,  thou,  beneath  the  light  that  fell 
From  angel-chariots,  sentinelled  on  high, 
Reposed,  and  listened,  and  saw  thy  living  change, 
Thy  dead  arise.     Charybdis  listened,  and  Scylla ; 
And  savage  Euxine,  on  the  Thracian  beach, 
Lay  motionless  :  and  every  battle-ship 
Stood  still,  and  every  ship  of  merchandise, 
And  all  that  sailed,  of  every  name,  stood  still. 
Even  as  the  ship  of  war,  full  fledged,  and  swift, 
Like  some  fierce  bird  of  prey,  bore  on  her  foe, 
Opposing  with  as  fell  intent,  the  wind 
Fell  withered  from  her  wings  that  idly  hung ; 
The  stormy  bullet,  by  the  camion  thrown 
Uncivilly  against  the  heavenly  face 
Of  men,  half  sped,  sunk  harmlessly,  and  all 
Her  loud,  uncircumcised,  tempestuous  crew, 
How    ill    prepared    to    meet    their    God  !  —  wera 
changed, 


S44 


THE    COURSE   OP   TIME. 


Unchangeable — the  pilot  at  the  helm 

Was    changed,    and    the    rough   captain,   while  he 

mouthed 

The  huge,  enormous  oath.     The  fisherman, 
That  in  his  boat,  expectant,  watched  his  lines, 
Or  mended  on  the  shore  his  net,  and  sung, 
Happy  in  thoughtlessness,  some  careless  air, 
Heard  Time  depart,  and  felt  the  sudden  change. 
In  solitary  deep,  far  out  from  land, 
Or  steering  from  the  port  with  many  a  cheer, 
Or  while  returning  from  long  voyage,  fraught 
With  lusty  wealth,  rejoicing  to  have  escaped 
The     dangerous     main,     and    plagues    of     foreign 

climes, — 

The  merchant  quaffed  his  native  air,  refreshed  ; 
And  saw  his  native  hills  in  the  sun's  light, 
Serenely  rise ;  and  thought  of  meetings  glad, 
And  many  days  of  ease  and  honor,  spent 
Among  his  friends — unwarned  man !  even  then, 
The  knell  of  Time  broke  on  his  reverie, 
And,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  his  hopes, 
All  earthly,  perished  all.     As  sudden  rose, 
From  out  their  watery  beds,  the  Ocean's  dead, 
Renewed ;  and,  on  the  unstirring  billows,  stood 
From  pole  to  pole,  thick  covering  all  the  sea — 
Of  every  nation  blent,  and  every  age. 

Wherever  slept  one  grain  of  human  dust, 
Essential  organ  of  a  human  soul, 
Wherever  tossed,  obedient  to  the  call 
Of  God's  omnipotence,  it  hurried  on 
To  meet  its  fellow  particles,  revived, 
Rebuilt,  in  union  indestructible. 
No  atom  of  his  spoils  remained  to  Death. 
From  his  strong  arm,  by  stronger  arm  released, 
fin  mortal  now  in  soul  and  body  both, 


BOOK    VII.  345 

Beyond  his  reach,  stood  all  the  sons  of  men, 
And  saw,  behind,  his  valley  lie,  unf eared. 

O  Death !  with  what  an  eye  of  desperate  lust, 
From  out  thy  emptied  vaults,  thou  then  didst  look 
After  the  risen  multitudes  of  all 
Mankind !  Ah  !  thou  hadst  been  the  terror  long, 
And  murderer,  of  all  of  woman  born. 
None  could  escape  thee  !     In  thy  dungeon  house, 
Where  darkness  dwelt,  and  putrid  loathsomeness, 
And  fearful  silence,  villanously  still, 
And  all  of  horrible  and  deadly  name, — 
Thou  satst,  from  age  to  age,  insatiate, 
And    drank  the  blood  of   men,   and   gorged  their 

flesh, 

And  with  thy  iron  teeth  didst  grind  their  bones 
To  powder,  treading  out,  beneath  thy  feet, 
Their  very  names  and  memories.     The  blood 
Of  nations  could  not  slake  thy  parched  throat. 
No  bribe  could  buy  thy  favor  for  an  hour, 
Or  mitigate  thy  ever-cruel  rage 
For  human  prey.     Gold,  beauty,  virtue,  youth 
Even  helpless,  swaddled  innocency,  failed 
To  soften  thy  heart  of  stone  !  the  infant's  blood 
Pleased    well    thy    taste,    and    while    the    mother 

wept, 

Bereaved  by  thce,  lonely  and  waste  in  wo, 
Thy  ever- grinding  jaws  devoured  her  too. 

Each  son  of  Adam's  family  beheld, 
Where'er  he  turned,  whatever  path  of  life 
He  trode,  thy  goblin  form  before  him  stand, 
Like  trusty  old  assassin,  in  his  aim 
Steady  and  sure  as  eye  of  destiny, 
With  scythe,  and  dart,  and  strength  invincible, 
Equipped,  and  ever  menacing  his  life. 


*46 


THE    COURSE   OF  TIME. 


He  turned  aside,  he  drowned  himself  in  sleep, 
In  wine,  in  pleasure ;  travelled,  voyaged,  sought 
Receipts  for  health  from  all  he  met ;  betook 
To  business,  speculate,  retired ;  returned 
Again  to  active  Hie,  again  retired; 
Returned,  retired  again ;  prepared  to  die, 
Talked  of  thy  nothingness,  conversed  of  life 
To  come,  laughed  at  his  fears,  filled  up  the  cup, 
Drank  deep,  refrained;  filled  up,  refrained  again; 
Planned,   built  him  round  with  splendor,  won  ap 

plause, 

Made  large  alliances  with  men  and  things, 
R-ead  deep  in  science  and  philosophy, 
To  fortify  his  soul ;  heard  lectures  prove 
The  present  ill,  and  future  good  ;  observed 
His  pulse  beat  regular,  extended  hope  ; 
Thought,  dissipated  thought,  and  thought  again  ; 
Indulged,  abstained,  and  tried  a  thousand  schemes, 
To  ward  thy  blow,  or  hide  thee  from  his  eye  ; 
But  still  thy  gloomy  terrors,  dipped  in  sin, 
Before  him  frowned,  and  withered  all  his  joy. 
Still,  feared  and  hated  thing  !  thy  ghostly  shape 
Stood  in.  his  avenues  of  fairest  hope  ; 
Unmannerly  and  uninvited,  crept 
Into  his  haunts  of  most  select  delight. 
Still,  on  his  halls  of  mirth,  and  banqueting, 
And  revelry,  thy  shadowy  hand  was  seen 
Writing  thy  name  of— Death.    Vile  worm,  that  gnawed 
The  root  of  all  his  happiness  terrene,  the  gall 
Of  all  his  sweet,  the  thorn  of  every  rose 
Of  earthly  bloom,  cloud  of  his  noon-day  sky, 
Frost  of  his  spring,  sigh  of  his  loudest  laugh, 
Dark  spot  on  every  form  of  loveliness, 
Rank  smell  amidst  his  rarest  spiceries, 
Harsh  dissonance  of  all  his  harmony, 
Reserve  of  every  promise,  and  the  if 


BOOK  vn.  347 

Of  all  to-morrows  ! — now,  beyond  thy  vale, 
Stood  all  the  ransomed  multitude  of  men, 
Immortal  all :  and  in  their  visions,  saw 
Thy  visage  grim  no  more.     Great  payment  day ! 
Of  all  thou  ever  conquered,  none  was  left 
In  thy  unpeopled  realms,  so  populous  once. 
He,  at  whose  girdle  hang  the  keys  of  death, 
And  life,  not  bought  but  with  the  blood  of  Him 
Who  wears,  the  eternal  Son  of  God,  that  morn, 
Dispelled  the  cloud  that  sat  so  long,  so  thick, 
So  heavy  o'er  thy  vale ;  opened  all  thy  doors, 
Unopened  before ;  and  set  thy  prisoners  free. 
Vain  was  resistance,  and  to  follow  vain. 
In  thy  unveiled  caves,  and  solitudes 
Of  dark  and  dismal  emptiness,  thou  satst, 
Rolling  thy  hollow  eyes,  disabled  thing  ! 
Helpless,  despised,  unpitied,  and  unfeared, 
Like  some  fallen  tyrant,  chained  in  sight  of  all 
The  people  ;  from  thee  dropped  thy  pointless  dar^ 
Thy  terrors  withered  all,  thy  ministers, 
Annihilated,  fell  before  thy  face, 
And  on  thy  maw  eternal  Hunger  seized. 

Nor  yet,  sad  monster  !  wast  thou  left  alone. 
In  thy  dark  dens  some  phantoms  still  remained,— • 
Ambition,  Vanity,  and  earthly  Fame, 
Swollen  Ostentation,  meagre  Avarice, 
Mad  Superstition,  smooth  Hypocrisy, 
And  Bigotry  intolerant,  and  Fraud, 
And  wilful  Ignorance,  and  sullen  Pride, 
Hot  Controversy,  and  the  subtle  ghost 
Of  vain  Philosophy,  and  worldly  Hope, 
And  sweet-lipped,  hollow-hearted  Flattery. 
All  these,  great  personages  once  on  earth, 
And  not  unfollowed,  nor  unpraised,  were  left, 
Thy  ever-unredeemed,  and  with  thee  driven          « 


348  THE    COURSE   OP   TIME. 

To  Erebus,  through  whose  uncheered  wastes, 
Thou  mayest  chase  them,  with  thy  broken  scythe 
Fetching  vain  strokes,  to  all  eternity, 
Unsatisfied,  as  men  who,  in  the  days 
Of  Time,  their  unsubstantial  forms  pursued. 


THB 

COURSE     OF     TIME 

BOOK  vin. 


ANALYSIS  OF  BOOK  Vin. 


The  Bard  describes  the  appearance  of  the  vast  Assembly  of  men 
gathered  for  the  Final  Judgment. 

^11  were  divested  of  the  extraneous  circumstances  by  which  they 
were  distinguished  in  life,  each  retaining  simply  his  moral 
character.  Various  classes  in  the  Assembly  are  particular 
ized  ;  the  lover  of  fame,  the  logician,  the  recluse,  the  bigot, 
the  indolent,  the  sceptic,  the  dupe  of  fashion,  the  unforgiving 
parent,  the  seducer,  the  dishonest  judge  and  advocate,  the  liar, 
duellist,  suicide,  hypocrite,  the  slanderer,  the  ungodly  minister, 
the  man  of  envy. 

When  the  Bard  has  named  these  classes,  and  presented  their 
character,  and  their  feelings  in  the  awful  Assembly,  the  Spirit 
whose  inquiries  had  given  occasion  for  the  Bard's  communica 
tions,  asks  whether  any  of  the  several  classes  of  the  unholy 
ever  actually  believed  themselves  advancing  to  a  future  Bar  oi 
Judgment.  The  answer  is  given  that  they  did  not.  The  word 
of  God  was  properly  and  perfectly  beheveu  t/y  none  of  them  ; 
the  necessary  and  certain  fruit  o;  .ait\  being  obedience  and 
aoiinea*. 


THE 

COURSE     OF     TIME. 
BOOK    VIII. 

REANIMATED,  now,  and  dressed  in  robes 
Of  everlasting  wear,  in  the  last  pause 
Of  expectation,  stood  the  human  race, 
Buoyant  in  air,  or  covering  shore  and  sea, 
From  east  to  west,  thick  as  the  eared  grain, 
In  golden  autumn  waved,  from  field  to  field, 
Profuse,  by  Nilus'  fertile  wave,  while  yet 
Earth  was,  and  men  were  in  her  valleys  seen. 

Still,  all  was  calm  in  heaven.     Nor  yet  appeared 
The  Judge,  nor  aught  appeared,  save  here  and  there, 
On  wing  of  golden  plumage  borne  at  will, 
A  curious  angel,  that  from  out  the  skies 
Now  glanced  a  look  on  man,  and  then  retired. 
As  calm  was  all  on  earth.     The  ministers 
Of  God's  unsparing  vengeance,  waited,  still 
Unbid.     No  sun,  no  moon,  no  star,  gave  light. 
A  blessed  and  holy  radiance,  travelled  far 
From  day  original,  fell  on  the  face    • 
Of  men,  and  every  countenance  revealed ; 
Unpleasant  to  the  bad,  whose  visages 
Had  lost  all  guise  of  seeming  happiness, 
With  which  on  earth  such  pains  they  took  to  hide 
Their  misery  in.     On  their  grim  features,  now 
The  plain,  unvisored  index  of  the  soul. 


352  THE   COURSE   OF  TIME. 

The  true,  untampered  witness  of  the  heart, 
No  smile  of  hope,  no  look  of  vanity 
Beseeching  for  applause,  was  seen ;  no  scowl 
Of  self-important,  all- despising  pride, 
That  once  upon  the  poor  and  needy  fell, 
Like  winter  on  the  unprotected  flower, 
Withering  their  very  being  to  decay. 
No  j  esting  mirth,  no  wanton  leer,  was  seen, 
No  sullen  lower  of  braggart  fortitude 
Defying  pain,  nor  anger,  nor  revenge  ; 
But  fear  instead,  and  terror,  and  remorse  ; 
And  chief,  one  passion,  to  its  answering,  shaped 
The  features,  of  the  damned,  and  in  itself 
Summed  all  the  rest, — unutterable  despair. 

"What  on  the  righteous  shone  of  foreign  light, 
Was  all  redundant  day,  they  needed  not. 
For  as,  by  nature,  Sin  is  dark,  and  loves 
The  dark,  still  hiding  from  itself  in  gloom, 
And  in  the  darkest  hell  is  still  itself 
The  darkest  hell,  and  the  severest  wo, 
Where  all  is  wo  ;  so  Virtue,  ever  fair  ! 
Doth  by  a  sympathy  as  strong  as  binds 
Two  equal  hearts,  well  pleased  in  wedded  love, 
For  ever  seek  the  light,  for  ever  seek 
All  fair  and  lovely  things,  all  beauteous  forms, 
All  images  of  excellence  and  truth ; 
And  from  her  own  essential  being,  pure 
As  flows  the  fount  of  life  that  spirits  drink, 
Doth  to  herself  give  light,  nor  from  her  beams, 
As  native  to  her  as  her  own  existence, 
Can  be  divorced,  nor  of  her  glory  shorn, — 
Which  now,  from  every  feature  of  the  just, 
Divinely  rayed,  yet  not  from  all  alike ; 
In  measure,  equal  to  the  soul's  advance 
In  virtue,  was  the  lustre  of  the  face. 


BOOK.  vin.  353 

It  was  a  strange  assembly  :  none,  of  all 
That  congregation  vast,  could  recollect 
Aught  like  it  in  the  history  of  man. 
No  "badge  of  outward  state  was  seen,  no  mark 
Of  age,  or  rank,  or  national  attire, 
Or  robe  professional,  or  air  of  trade. 
Untitled,  stood  the  man  that  once  was  called 
My  lord,  unserved,  unfollowed ;  and  the  man 
Of  tithes,  right  reverend  in  the  dialect 
Of  Time  addressed,  ungowned,  unbeneficed, 
Uncorpulent ;  nor  now,  from  him  who  bore, 
With  ceremonious  gravity  of  step, 
And  face  of  borrowed  holiness  o'erlaid, 
The  ponderous  book  before  the  awful  priest, 
And  opened  and  shut  the  pulpit's  sacred  gates 
In  style  of  wonderful  observancy 
And  reverence  excessive,  in  the  beams 
Of  sacerdotal  splendor  lost,  or  if 
Observed,  comparison  ridiculous  scarce 
Could  save  the  little,  pompous,  humble  man 
From  laughter  of  the  people,— not  from  him 
Could  be  distinguished  then  the  priest  untithed. 
None  levees  held,  those  marts  where  princely  smiles 
Were  sold  for  flattery,  and  obeisance  mean, 
Unfit  from  man  to  man  ;  none  came  or  went, 
None  wished  to  draw  attention,  none  was  poor, 
None  rich,  none  young,  none  old,  deformed  none ; 
None  sought  for  place  or  favor,  none  had  aught 
To  give,  none  could  receive,  none  ruled,  none  served 
No  king,  no  subject  was  ;  unscutcheoncd  all, 
Uncrowned,  unplumed,  unhelmed,  unpedigreed, 
Unlaced,  uncoroneted,  unbestarred. 
Nor  countryman  was  seen,  nor  citizen ; 
Republican,  nor  humble  advocate 
Of  monarchy  ;  nor  idle  worshipper, 
Nor  beaded  papist,  nor  Mahometan ; 
SO* 


354  THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 

Episcopalian  none,  nor  presbyter ; 

Nor  Lutheran,  nor  Calvanist,  nor  Jew, 

Nor  Greek,  nor  sectary  of  any  name. 

Nor,  of  those  persons,  that  loud  title  bore, 

Most  high  and  mighty,  most  magnificent, 

Most  potent,  most  august,  most  worshipful, 

Most  eminent,  words  of  great  pomp,  that  pleased 

The  ear  of  vanity,  and  made  the  worms 

Of  earth  mistake  themselves  for  gods, — could  one 

Be  seen,  to  claim  these  phrases  obsolete. 

It  was  a  congregation  vast  of  men, 
Of  unappendaged  and  unvarnished  men, 
Of  plain,  unceremonious  human  beings, 
Of  all  but  moral  character  bereaved. 
His  vice,  or  virtue,  now,  to  each  remained, 
Alone.     All  else,  with  their  grave-clothes,  men  had 
Put  off,  as  badges  worn  by  mortal,  not 
Immortal  man ;  alloy  that  could  not  pass 
The  scrutiny  of  Death's  refining  fires  ; 
Dust  of  Time's  wheels,  by  multitudes  pursued 
Of  fools  that  shouted — Gold !  fair  painted  fruit, 
At  which  the  ambitious  idiot  jumped,  while  men 
Of  wiser  mood  immortal  harvest  reaped ; 
"Weeds  of  the  human  garden,  sprung  from  earth's 
Adulterate  soil,  unfit  to  be  transplanted, 
Though  by  the  mortal  botanist,  too  oft, 
For  plants  of  heavenly  seed  mistaken  and  nursed, 
Mere  chaff,  that  Virtue,  when  she  rose  from  earth, 
And  waved  her  wings  to  gain  her  native  heights, 
Drove  from  the  verge  of  being,  leaving  Vice 
No  mask  to  hide  her  in  ;  base-born  of  Time, 
In  which  God  claimed  no  property,  nor  had 
Prepared  for  them  a  place  in  heaven  or  helL 
Yet  did  these  vain  distinctions,  now  forgot, 
Bulk  largely  in  the  filmy  eye  of  Time, 


BOOK  vm.  35-5 

And  were  exceeding  fair,  and  lured  to  death 
Immortal  souls.     But  they  were  passed,  for  all 
Ideal  now  was  passed  ;  reality 
AJone  remained  ;  and  good  and  bad,  redeemed 
And  unredeemed,  distinguished  sole  the  sons 
Of  men.     Each,  to  his  proper  self  reduced, 
And  undisguised,  was  what  his  seeming  showed. 

The  man  of  earthly  fame,  whom  common  men 
Made  boast  of  having  seen,  who  scarce  could  pass 
The  ways  of  Time,  for  eager  crowds  that  pressed 
To  do  him  homage,  and  pursued  his  ear 
With  endless  praise,  for  deeds  unpraised  above, 
And  yoked  their  brutal  natures,  honored  much 
To  drag  his  chariot  on, — unnoticed  stood, 
With  none  to  praise  him,  none  to  natter  there. 

Blushing  and  dumb,  that  morning,  too,  was  seen 
The  mighty  reasoner,  he  who  deeply  searched 
The  origin  of  things,  and  talked  of  good 
And  evil,  much,  of  causes  and  effects, 
Of  mind  and  matter,  contradicting  all 
That  went  before  him,  and  himself,  the  while, 
The  laughing-stock  of  angels  ;  diving  far 
Below  his  depth,  to  fetch  reluctant  proof, 
That  he  himself  was  mad  and  wicked  too, 
When,  proud  and  ignorant  man,  he  meant  to  prove 
That  God  had  made  the  universe  amiss, 
And  sketched  a  better  plan.     Ah  !  foolish  sage  ! 
He  could  not  trust  the  word  of  Heaven,  nor  see 
The  light  which  from  the  Bible  blazed, — that  lamp 
Which  God  threw  from  his  palace  down  to  earth, 
To  guide  his  wandering  children  home, — yet  leaned 
His  cautious  faith  on  speculations  wild, 
And  visionary  theories  absurd, 
Prodigiously,  deliriously  absurd, 


556  THE    COUKSE   OF   TIME. 

Compared  with  which,  the  most  erroneous  flight 

That  poet  ever  took  when  warm,  with  wine, 

Was  moderate  conjecturing  :  he  saw, 

Weighed  in  the  balance  of  eternity, 

His  lore  how  light,  and  wished,  too  late,  that  he 

Had  staid  at  home,  and  learned  to  know  himself, 

And  done,  what  peasants  did,  disputed  less, 

And  more  obeyed.     Nor  less  he  grieved  his  time 

Misspent,  the  man  of  curious  research, 

Who  travelled  far  through  lands  of  hostile  cliine 

And  dangerous  inhabitant,  to  fix 

The  bounds  of  empires  passed,  and  ascertain 

The  burial-place  of  heroes,  never  born ; 

Despising  present  things,  and  future  too, 

And  groping  in  the  dark  unsearchable 

Of  finished  years, — by  dreary  ruins  seen, 

And  dungeons  damp,  and  vaults  of  ancient  waste, 

With  spade  and  mattock,  delving  deep  to  raise 

Old  vases  and  dismembered  idols  rude  ; 

With  matchless  perseverance,  spelling  out 

Words  without  sense.    Poor  man !  he  clapped  his 

hands 

Enraptured,  when  he  found  a  manuscript 
That  spoke  of  pagan  gods  ;  and  yet  forgot 
The  God  who  made  the  sea  and  sky,  alas  ! 
Forgot  that  trifling  was  a  sin  ;  stored  much 
Of  dubious  stuff,  but  laid  no  treasure  up 
In   heaven  ;    on  mouldered   columns   scratched  his 

name, 
But  ne'er  inscribed  it  in  the  book  of  life. 

Unprofitable  seemed,  and  unapproved, 
That  day,  the  sullen,  self- vindictive  life 
Of  the  recluse.     With  crucifixes  hung, 
And  spells,  and  rosaries,  and  wooden  saints, 
Like  one  of  reason  reft,  he  journeyed  forth. 


BOOK  VIH.  357 

in  show  of  miserable  poverty, 
And  chose  to  beg, — as  if  to  live  on  sweat 
Of  other  men,  had  promised  great  reward  ; 
On  his  own  flesh  inflicted  cruel  wounds, 
With  naked  foot  embraced  the  ice,  by  the  hour 
Said  mass,  and  did  most  grievous  penance  vile ; 
And  then  retired  to  drink  the  filthy  cup 
Of  secret  wickedness,  and  fabricate 
All  lying  wonders,  by  the  untaught  received 
For  revelations  new.     Deluded  wretch  ! 
Did  he  no   know,  that  the  most  Holy  One 
Required  a  cheerful  life  and  holy  heart  ? 

Most  disappointed  in  that  crowd  of  men, 
The  man  of  subtle  controversy  stood, 
The  bigot  theologian,  in  minute 
Distinctions  skilled,  and  doctrines  unreduced 
To  practice  ;  in  debate  how  loud  !  how  long  ! 
How  dexterous  !  in  Christian  love  how  cold  ! 
His  vain  conceits  were  orthodox  alone. 
The  immutable  and  heavenly  truth,  revealed 
By  God,  was  naught  to  him.     He  had  an  art, 
A  kind  of  hellish  charm,  that  made  the  lips 
Of  truth  speak  falsehood,  to  his  liking  turned 
The  meaning  of  the  text,  made  trifles  seem 
The  marrow  of  salvation ;  to  a  word, 
A  name,  a  sect,  that  sounded  in  the  ear, 
And  to  the  eye  so  many  letters  showed, 
But  did  no  more, — gave  value  infinite  ; 
Proved  still  his  reasoning  best,  and  his  belief, 
Though  propped  on  fancies  wild  as  madmen's  dream*, 
Most  rational,  most  scriptural,  most  sound ; 
With  mortal  heresy  denouncing  all 
Who  in  his  arguments  could  see  no  force. 
On  points  of  faith,  too  fine  for  human  sight, 
And  never  understood  in  heaven,  he  placed 


358  THE    COURSE   OF  TIME. 

His  everlasting  hope,  undoubting  placed, 

And  died ;  and,  when  he  opened  his  ear,  prepared 

To  hear,  beyond  the  gra^v  e,  the  minstrelsy 

Of  bliss,  he  heard,  alas !  the  wail  of  wo. 

He  proved  all  creeds  false  but  his  own,  and  found, 

At  last,  his  own  most  false — most  false,  because 

He  spent  his  time  to  prove  all  others  so. 

O,  love- destroying,  cursed  Bigotry ! 
Cursed  in  heaven,  but  cursed  more  in  hell, 
Where  millions  curse  thee,  and  must  ever  curse ! 
Religion's  most  abhorred  !  perdition's  most 
Forlorn !  God's  most  abandoned !  hell's  most  damned. 
The  infidel,  who  turned  his  impious  war 
Against  the  walls  of  Zion,  on  the  rock 
Of  ages  built,  and  higher  than  the  clouds, 
Sinned,  and  received  his  due  reward  ;  but  she 
Within  her  walls  sinned  more.     Of  Ignorance 
Begot,  her  daughter,  Persecution,  walked 
The  earth,  from  age  to  age,  and  drank  the  blood 
Of  God's  peculiar  children,  and  was  drunk, 
And  in  her  drunkenness  dreamed  of  doing  good. 
The  supplicating  hand  of  innocence, 
That  made  the  tiger  mild,  and  in  his  wrath 
The  lion  pause,  the  groans  of  suffering  most 
Severe,  were  naught  to  her  ;  she  laughed  at  groans  ; 
No  music  pleased  her  more,  and  no  repast 
So  sweet  to  her,  as  blood  of  men  redeemed 
By  blood  of  Christ.     Ambition's  sell',  though  mad, 
And  nursed  on  human  gore,  with  her  compared 
Was  merciful.     Nor  did  she  always  rage. 
She  had  some  hours  of  meditation,  set. 
Apart,  wherein  she  to  her  study  went, 
The  Inquisition,  model  most  complete 
Of  perfect  wickedness,  where  deeds  were  done, — 
Deeds !  let  them  ne'er  be  named, — and  sat  and  planned 


BOOK  vm.  35S 

Deliberately,  and  -with,  most  musing  pains, 

How,  to  extremest  thrill  of  agony, 

The  flesh,  and  blood,  and  souls  of  holy  men, 

Her  victims,  might  be  wrought ;  and  when  she  saw 

New  tortures  of  her  laboring  fancy  born, 

She  leaped  for  joy,  and  made  great  haste  to  try 

Their  force — well  pleased  to  hear  a  deeper  groan. 

But  now  her  day  of  mirth  was  passed,  and  come 
Her  day  to  weep,  her  day  of  bitter  groans, 
And  sorrow  uiibemoaned,  the  day  of  grief 
And  wrath  retributory  poured  in  full 
On  all  that  took  her  part.     The  man  of  sin, 
The  mystery  of  iniquity,  her  friend 
Sincere,  who  pardoned  sin,  unpardoncd  still, 
And  in  the  name  of  God  blasphemed,  and  did 
All  wicked,  all  abominable  things, 
Most  abject  stood,  that  day,  by  devils  hissed, 
And  by  the  looks  of  those  he  murdered,  scorched : 
And  plagued  with  inward  shame,  that  on  his  cheek 
Burned,  while  his  votaries,  who  left  the  earth, 
Secure  of  bliss,  around  him,  undeceived, 
Stood,  undeceivable  till  then  ;  and  knew, 
Too  late,  him  fallible,  themselves  accursed, 
And  all  their  passports  and  certificates, 
A  lie  :  nor  disappointed  more,  nor  more 
Ashamed,  the  Mussulman,  when  he  saw,  gnash 
His  teeth  and  wail,  whom  he  expected  judge. 
All  these  were  damned  for  bigotry,  were  damned, 
Because  they  thought  that  they  alone  served  God, 
And  served  him  most,  when  most  they  disobeyed. 

Of  those  forlorn  and  sad,  thoumightst  have  marked 
In  number  most  innumerable,  stand 
The  indolent;  too  lazy  these  to  make 
Inquiry  for  themselves,  they  stuck  their  faith 


360  THE    COURSE    OP   TIME. 

To  some  well-fatted  priest,  with  offerings  bribed 

To  bring  them  oracles  of  peace,  and  take 

Into  his  management  all  the  concerns 

Of  their  eternity  ;  managed  how  well 

They  knew,  that  day,  and  might  have  sooner  known, 

That  the  commandment  was,  Search,  and  believe 

In  Me,  and  not  in  man  ;  who  leans  on  him 

Leans  on  a  broken  reed,  that  will  impierce 

The  trusted  side.     I  am  the  way,  the  truth, 

The  life,  alone,  and  there  is  none  besides. 

This  did  they  read,  and  yet  refused  to  search, 
To  search  what  easily  was  found,  and,  found, 
Of  price  uncountable.     Most  foolish,  they 
Thought  God  with  ignorance  pleased,   and  blinded 

faith, 

That  took  not  root  in  reason,  purified 
With  holy  influence  of  his  Spirit  pure  ; 
So,  on  they  walked,  and  stumbled  in  the  light 
Of  noon,  because  they  would  not  open  their  eyes ; 
Effect  how  sad  of  sloth  !  that  made  them  risk 
Their  piloting  to  the  eternal  shore, 
To  one  who  could  mistake  the  lurid  flash 
Of  hell  for  heaven's  true  star,  rather  than  bow 
The  knee,  and  by  one  fervent  word  obtain 
His  guidance  sure,  who  calls  the  stars  by  name. 
They  prayed  by  proxy,  and  at  second  hand 
Believed,  and  slept,  and  put  repentance  off, 
Until  the  knock  of  death  awoke  them,  when 
They  saw  their  ignorance  both,  and  him  they  paid 
To  bargain  of  their  souls  'twixt  them  and  God, 
Fled,  and  began  repentance  without  end. 
How  did  they  wish,  that  morning,  as  they  stood 
With  blushing  covered,  they  had  for  themselves 
The  Scripture  searched,  had  for  themselves  believed, 
And  made  acquaintance  with  the  «Hdge  ere  then. 


BOOK   VIII.  361 

Great  day  of  termination  to  tho  joys 
Of  sin  !  to  joys  that  grew  on  mortal  boughs, 
On  trees  whose  seed  fell  not  from  heaven,  whose  top 
Reached  not  above  the  clouds.     From  such, 
The  epicure  took  all  his  meals.     In  choice 
Of  mcrsels  for  the  body,  nice  he  was, 
And  scrupulous,  and  knew  all  wines  by  smell 
Or  taste,  and  every  composition  knew 
Of  cookery  ;  but  grossly  drank,  unskilled, 
The  cup  of  spiritual  pollution  up, 
That  sickened  his  soul  to  death,  while  yet  his  eyes 
Stood  out  with  fat.     His  feelings  were  his  guide. 
He  ate,  and  dn  ik,  and  slept,  and  took  all  joys. 
Forbid  and  unfoi  bid,  as  impulse  urged 
Or  appetite,  nor  asked  his  reason  why. 
He  said,  he  followed  Nature  still,  but  lied  ; 
For  she  was  temperate  and  chaste,  he  full 
Of  wine  and  all  adultery  ;  her  face 
Was  holy,  most  unholy  his ;  her  eye 
Was  pure,  his  shot  unhallowed  fire ;  her  lips 
Sang  praise  to  God,  his  uttered  oaths  profane ; 
Her  breath  was  sweet,  his  rank  with  foul  debauch 
Yet  pleaded  he  a  kind  and  feeling  heart, 
Even  when  he  left  a  neighbor's  bed  defiled. 
Like  migratory  fowls,  that  flocking  sailed 
From  isle  to  isle,  steering  by  sense  alone, 
Whither  the  clime  their  liking  best  beseemed ; 
So  he  was  guided,  so  he  moved  through  good 
And  evil,  right  and  wrong,  but,  ah  !  to  fate 
All  different ;  they  slept  in  dust,  unpained ; 
He  rose,  that  day,  to  suffer  endless  pain. 

Cured  of  his  unbelief,  the  skeptic  stood, 
Who  doubted  of  his  being  while  he  breathed, 
Than  whom  glossography  itself,  that  spoke 
Huge  folios  of  nonsense  every  hour, 
31 


J62  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

And  left,  surrounding  every  page,  its  marks 
Of  prodigal  stupidity,  scarce  more 
Of  folly  raved.     The  tyrant,  too,1  who  sat 
In  grisly  council,  like  a  spider  couched, 
With  ministers  of  locust  countenance, 
And  made  alliances  to  rob  mankind, 
And  holy  termed,— for  still,  beneath  a  name 
Of  pious  sound,  the  wicked  sought  to  veil 
Their  crimes,— forgetful  of  his  right  divine, 
Trembled,  and  owned  oppression  was  of  hell ; 
Nor  did  the  uncivil  robber,  who  unpursed 
The  traveller  on  the  highway,  and  cut 
His  throat,  anticipate  severer  doom. 

In  that  assembly  there  was  one,  who,  while 
Beneath  the  sun,  aspired  to  be  a  fool ; 
In  different  ages  known  by  different  names, 
Not  worth  repeating  here.     Be  this  enough  : 
With  scrupulous  care  exact,  he  walked  the  rounds 
Of  fashionable  duty,  laughed  when  sad  ; 
When  merry,  wept ;  deceiving,  was  deceived ; 
And  flattering,  flattered.     Fashion  was  his  god. 
Obsequiously  he  fell  before  its  shrine, 
In  slavish  plight,  and  trembled  to  offend. 
If  graveness  suited,  he  was  grave ;  if  else, 
He  travailed  sorely,  and  made  brief  repose, 
To  work  the  proper  quantity  of  sin. 
In  all  submissive,  to  his  changing  shape, 
Still  changing,  girded  he  his  vexed  frame, 
And  laughter  made  to  men  of  sounder  head. 
Most  circumspect  he  was  of  bows,  and  nods, 
And  salutations  ;  and  most  seriously 
And  deeply  meditated  he  of  dress  ; 
And  in  his  dreams  saw  lace  and  ribbons  fly. 
His  soul  was  naught ;  he  damned  it,  every  day. 
Unceremoniously.     Oh  !  fool  of  fools  ! 


BOOK  vm.  363 

Pleased  with  a  painted  smile,  he  fluttered  on, 
Like  fly  of  gaudy  plume,  by  fashion  driven, 
As  faded  leaves  by  Autumn's  wind,  till  Death 
Put  forth  his  hand,  and  drew  him  out  of  sight. 
Oh  !  fool  of  fools  !  polite  to  man  ;  to  God 
Most  rude ;  yet  had  he  many  rivals,  who, 
Age  after  age,  great  striving  made  to  be 
Kidiculous,  and  to  forget  they  had 
Immortal  souls,  that  day  remembered  well. 

As  rueful  stood  his  other  half,  as  wan 
Of  cheek.     Small  her  ambition  was,  but  strange. 
The  distaff,  needle,  all  domestic  cares, 
Religion,  children,  husband,  home,  were  things 
She  could  not  bear  the  thought  of,  bitter  drugs, 
That  sickened  her  soul.     The  house  of  wanton  mirth 
And  revelry,  the  mask,  the  dance,  she  loved, 
And  in  their  service  soul  and  body  spent 
Most  cheerfully.     A  little  admiration, 
Or  true  or  false,  no  matter  which,  pleased  her, 
And  o'er  the  wreck  of  fortune  lost,  and  health 
And  peace,  and  an  eternity  of  bliss 
Lost,  made  her  sweetly  smile.     She  was  convinced, 
That  God  had  made  her  greatly  out  of  taste  ; 
And  took  much  pains  to  make  herself  anew. 
Bedaubed  with  paint,  and  hung  with  ornaments 
Of  curious  selection,  gaudy  toy  ! 
A  show  unpaid  for,  paying  to  be  seen ! 
As  beggar  by  the  way,  most  humbly  asking 
The  alms  of  public  gaze, — she  went  abroad. 
Folly  admired,  and  indication  gave 
Of  envy,  cold  Civility  made  bows 
And  smoothly  flattered,  Wisdom  shook  his  head, 
And  Laughter  shaped  his  lip  into  a  smile  ; 
Sobriety  did  stare,  Forethought  grew  pale, 
And  Modesty  hung  down  the  head  and  blushed, 


364  THE    COURSE   OF  TIME. 

And  Pity  wept,  as,  on  the  frothy  surge 
Of  fashion  tossed,  she  passed  them  by,  like  sail 
Before  some  devilish  blast,  and  got  no  time 
To  think,  and  never  thought,  till  on  the  rock 
She  dashed,  of  ruin,  anguish,  and  despair. 

O  how  unlike  this  giddy  thing  in  Time  i 
And  a*"  the  day  of  judgment  how  unlike, 
The  modest,  meek,  retiring  dame  !     Her  house 
Was  ordered  well,  her  children  taught  the  way 
Of  life,  who,  rising  up  in  honor,  called 
Her  blessed.     Best  pleased  to  be  admired  at  homrj, 
And  hear,  reflected  from  her  husband's  praise, 
Her  own,  she  sought  no  gaze  of  foreign  eye  ; 
His  praise  alone,  and  faithful  love,  and  trust 
Reposed,  was  happiness  enough  for  her. 
Yet  who,  that  saw  her  pass,  and  heard  the  pooi 
With  earnest  benedictions  on  her  steps 
Attend,  could  from  obeisance  keep  his  eye, 
Or  tongue  from  due  applause  ?     In  virtue  fair. 
Adorned  with  modesty,  and  matron  grace 
Unspeakable,  and  love,  her  face  Avas  like 
The  light,  most  welcome  to  the  eye  of  man. 
Refreshing  most,  most  honored,  most  desired, 
Of  all  he  saw  in  the  dim  world  below. 
As  morning  when  she  shed  her  golden  locks, 
And  on  the  dewy  top  of  Hermon  walked, 
Or  Zion  hill ;  so  glorious  was  her  path. 
Old  men  beheld,  and  did  her  reverence, 
And  bade  their  daiighters  look,  and  take  from  hei 
Example  of  their  future  life  ;  the  young 
Admired,  and  new  resolve  of  virtue  made. 
And  none  who  was  her  husband  asked  ;  his  air 
Serene,  and  countenance  of  joy,  the  sign 
Of  inward  satisfaction,  as  he  passed 
The  crowd,  or  sat  among  the  elders,  told. 


BOOK.  vm.  365 

In  holiness  complete,  and  in  the  robes 
Of  saving  righteousness,  arrayed  for  heaven, 
How  fair,  that  day,  among  the  fair,  she  stood ! 
How  lovely  on  the  eternal  hills  her  steps  ! 

Restored  to  reason,  on  that  morn,  appeared 
Tho  lunatic,  who  raved  in  chains,  and  asked 
No  mercy  when  he  died.     Of  lunacy, 
Innuiuerous  were  the  causes  ;  humbled  pride, 
Ambition  disappointed,  riches  lost, 
\nd  bodily  disease,  and  sorrow,  oft 
By  man  inflicted  on  his  brother  man ; 
Sorrow  that  made  the  reason  drunk,  and  yet 
Left  much  untasted — so  the  cup  was  filled ; 
Sorrow  that,  like  an  ocean,  dark,  deep,  rough, 
And  shoreless,  rolled  its  billows  o'er  the  soul 
Perpetually,  and  without  hope  of  end. 

Take  one  example,  one  of  female  wo. 
Loved  by  a  father  anc  a  mother's  love, 
In  rural  peace  she  lived,  so  fair,  so  light 
Of  heart,  so  good,  and  young,  that  reason,  scarce, 
The  eye  could  credit,  tut  would  doubt,  as  she 
Did  stoop  to  pull  the  ILy  or  the  rose 
From  morning's  dew,  if  it  reality 
Of  flesh  and  blood,  or  holy  vision,  saw, 
In  imagery  of  perfect  womanhood. 
But  short  her  bloom,  her  happiness  was  short. 
One  saw  her  loveline&s,  and,  with  desire 
Unhallowed,  bm-ning,  to  her  ear  addressed 
Dishonest  words :  "  Her  favor  was  his  life, 
His  heaven ;  her  frown  his  wo,  his  night,  his  death. 
With  turgid  phrase,  thus  wove  in  flattery's  .oom, 
He  on  her  womanish  nature  won,  and  age 
Suspicionless,  and  ruined,  and  forsook. 
For  he  a  chosen  villain  was  at  heart, 
31* 


366  THE   COURSE   OF  TIME. 

And  cap  able  of  deeds  that  durst  not  seek 
Repentance.     Soon  her  father  saw  her  shame, 
His  heart  grew  stone,  he  drove  her  forth  to  want 
And  wintry  winds,  and  with  a  horrid  curse 
Pursued  her  ear,  forbidding  all  return. 


Upon  a  hoary  cliff,  that  watched  the  sea, 
Her  babe  was  found — dead.     On  its  little  cheek, 
The  tear  that  nature  bade  it  weep,  had  turned 
An  ice-drop,  sparkling  in  the  morning  beam  ; 
And  to  the  turf  its  helpless  hands  were  frozen. 
For  she,  the  woful  mother,  had  gone  mad, 
And  laid  it  down,  regardless  of  its  fate, 
And  of  her  own.     Yet  had  she  many  days 
Of  sorrow  in  the  world,  but  never  wept. 
She  lived  on  alms,  and  carried  in  her  hand 
Some  withered  stalks  she  gathered  in  the  spring. 
When  any  asked  the  cause,  she  smiled  and  said, 
They  were  her  sisters,  and  would  come  and  watch 
Her  grave  when  she  was  dead.     She  never  spoko 
Of  her  deceiver,  father,  mother,  home, 
Or  child,  or  heaven,  or  hell,  or  God,  but  still 
In  lonely  places  walked,  and  ever  gazed 
Upon  the  withered  stalks,  and  talked  to  them ; 
Till,  wasted  to  the  shadow  of  her  youth, 
With  wo  too  wide  to  see  beyond,  she  died — 
Not  unatoned  for  by  imputed  blood, 
Nor  by  the  Spirit  that  mysterious  works, 
Unsanctified.     Aloud,  her  father  cursed, 
That  day,  his  guilty  pride,  which  would  not  own 
A  daughter,  whom  the  God  of  heaven  and  earth 
Was  not  ashamed  to  call  his  own ;  and  he, 
Who  ruined  her,  read  from  her  holy  look, 
That  pierced  him  with  perdition  manifold, 
His  sentence,  burning  with  vindictive  fire. 


BOOK   YIU. 


367 


The  judge  that  took  a  bribe;  he  who  amiss 
Pleaded  the  widow's  cause,  and  by  delay 
Delaying  ever,  made  the  law  at  night 
More  intricate  than  at  the  dawn,  and  on 
The  morrow  farther  from  a  close,  than  when 
The  sun  last  set,  till  he  who  in  the  suit 
Was  poorest,  by  his  emptied  coffers,  proved 
His  cause  the  worst ;  and  he  that  had  the  bag 
Of  weights  deceitful,  and  the  balance  false ; 
And  he  that  with  a  fraudful  lip  deceived 
In  buying  or  in  selling ; — these,  that  morn, 
Found  custom  no  excuse  for  sin,  and  knew 
Plain  dealing  was  a  virtue,  but  too  late. 
And  he  that  was  supposed  to  do  nor  good 
Nor  ill,  surprised,  could  find  no  neutral  ground, 
And  learned,  that  to  do  nothing  was  to  serve 
The  devil,  and  transgress  the  laws  of  God. 
The  noisy  quack,  that  by  profession  lied, 
And  uttered  falsehoods  of  enormous  size, 
With  countenance  as  grave  as  truth  beseemed ; 
And  he  that  lied  for  pleasure,  whom  a  lust 
Of  being  heard  and  making  people  stare, 
And  a  molt  steadfast  hate  of  silence,  drove 
Far  wide  of  sacred  truth,  who  never  took 
The  pains  to  think  of  what  he  was  to  say, 
But  still  made  haste  to  speak,  with  weary  tongut 
Like  copious  stream  for  ever  flowing  on ; — 
Read  clearly  in  the  lettered  heavens,  what,  long, 
Before,  they  might  have  read,  For  every  word 
Of  folly,  you,  this  day,  shall  give  account ; 
And  every  liar  shall  his  portion  have 
Among  the  cursed,  without  the  gates  of  life. 

With  groans  that  made  no  p-~  --»e,  lamenting  ther 
Were  seen  the  duellist  and  a  *cide. 


368  THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 

This  thought,  but  thought  amiss,  that  of  himself 

He  was  entire  proprietor  ;  and  so, 

When  he  was  tired  of  Time,  with  his  own  hand, 

He  opened  the  portals  of  Eternity, 

And  sooner  than  the  devils  hoped,  arrived 

In  hell.     The  other,  of  resentment  quick, 

And  for  a  word,  a  look,  a  gesture,  deemed 

Not  scrupulously  exact  in  all  respect, 

Prompt  to  revenge,  went  to  the  cited  field, 

For  double  murder  armed,  his  own,  and  his 

That  as  himself  he  was  ordained  to  love. 

The  first,  in  pagan  books  of  early  times, 

"Was  heroism  pronounced,  and  greatly  praised. 

In  fashion's  glossary  of  later  days, 

The  last  was  honor  called,  and  spirit  high. 

Alas  !  'twas  mortal  spirit,  honor  which 

Forgot  to  wake  at  the  last  trumpet's  voice, 

Bearing  the  signature  of  Time  alone, 

TJncurrent  in  Eternity,  and  base. 

Wise  men  suspected  this  before ;  for  they 

Could  never  understand  what  honor  meant, 

Or  why  that  should  be  honor  termed,  which  mads 

Man  murder  man,  and  broke  the  laws  o*f  God 

Most  wantonly.     Sometimes,  indeed,  the  grave, 

And  those  of  Christian  creed  imagined,  spoke 

Admiringly  of  honor,  lauding  much 

The  noble  youth,  who,  after  many  rounds 

Of  boxing,  died  ;  or,  to  the  pistol  shot 

His  breast  exposed,  his  soul  to  endless  pain. 

But  they  who  most  admired,  and  understood 

This  honor  best,  and  on  its  altar  laid 

Their  lives,  most  obviously  were  fools ;  and,  what 

Fools  only,  and  the  wicked,  understood, 

The  wise  agreed  was  some  delusive  Shade, 

That  with  the  mist  of  time  should  disappear. 


BOOK  vm.  369 

Great  day  of  revelation  !  in  the  grave 
The  hypocrite  had  left  his  mask,  and  stood 
In  naked  ugliness.     He  was  a  man 
Who  stole  the  livery  of  the  court  of  heaven, 
To  serve  the  devil  in ;  in  virtue's  guise, 
Devoured  the  widow's  house  and  orphan's  bread ; 
In  holy  phrase  transacted  villanies 
That  common  sinners  durst  not  meddle  with. 
At  sacred  feast,  he  sat  among  the  saints, 
And  with  his  guilty  hands  touched  holiest  things, 
And  none  of  sin  lamented  more,  or  sighed 
More  deeply,  or  with  graver  countenance, 
Or  longer  prayer,  wept  o'er  the  dying  man, 
Whose  infant  children,  at  the  moment,  he 
Planned  how  to  rob.     In  sermon  style  he  bought, 
And  sold,  and  lied ;  and  salutations  made 
In  scripture  terms.     He  prayed  by  quantity, 
And  with  his  repetitions  long  and  loud, 
All  knees  were  weary.     With  one  hand  he  put 
A  penny  in  the  urn  of  poverty, 
And  with  the  other  took  a  shilling  out. 
On  charitable  lists, — those  trumps  which  told 
The  public  ear,  who  had  in  secret  done 
The  poor  a  benefit,  and  half  the  alms 
They  told  of,  took  themselves  to  keep  them  sounding: 
He  blazed  his  name,  more  pleased  to  have  it  there 
Than  in  the  book  of  life.     Seest  thou  the  man  ! 
A  serpent  with  an  angel's  voice  !  a  grave 
With  flowers  bestrewed !  and  yet  few  were  deceived 
His  virtues  being  over-done,  his  face 
Too  grave,  his  prayers  too  long,  his  charities 
Too  pompously  attended,  and  his  speech 
Larded  too  frequently  and  out  of  time 
With  serious  phraseology, — were  rents 
That  in  his  garments  opened  in  spite  of  him, 
Through  wliich  the  well-accustomed  eye  could  see 


370  THE   COURSE   Ot    TIME. 

The  rottenness  of  his  heart.     None  deeper  blushed, 

As  in  the  all-piercing  light  he  stood,  exposed, 

No  longer  herding  with  the  holy  ones. 

Yet  still  he  tried  to  bring  his  countenance 

To  sanctimonious  seeming ;  but,  meanwhile, 

The  shame  within,  now  visible  to  all, 

His  purpose  balked.     The  righteous  smiled,  and  even 

Despair  itself  some  signs  of  laughter  gave, 

As  ineffectually  he  strove  to  wipe 

His  brow,  that  inward  guiltiness  defiled. 

Detected  wretch !  of  all  the  reprobate, 

None  seemed  maturer  for  the  flames  of  hell, 

Where  still  his  face  from  ancient  custom,  ^ears 

A  holy  air,  which  says  to  all  that  pass 

Him  by,  "  I  was  a  hypocrite  on  earth." 

That  was  the  hour  which  measured  out  to  each, 
Impartially  his  share  of  reputation, 
Correcting  all  mistakes,  and  from  the  name 
Of  the  good  man  all  slanders  wiping  off. 
Good  name  was  dear  to  all.     Without  it,  none 
Could  soundly  sleep,  even  on  a  royal  bed, 
Or  drink  with  relish  from  a  cup  of  gold ; 
And  with  it,  on  his  borrowed  straw,  or  by 
The  leafless  hedge,  beneath  the  open  heavens, 
The  weary  beggar  took  untroubled  rest. 
It  was  a  music  of  most  heavenly  tone, 
To  which  the  heart  leaped  joyfully,  and  all 
The  spirits  danced.     For  honest  fame,  men  laid 
Their  heads  upon  the  block,  and,  while  the  axe 
Descended,  looked  and  smiled.     It  was  of  price 
Invaluable.     Kiches,  health,  repose, 
Whole  kingdoms,  life,  were  given  for  it,  and  he 
Who  got  it  was  the  winner  still ;  and  he 
Who  sold  it  durst  not  open  his  ear,  nor  look 
Ou  human  face,  he  knew  himself  so  vile. 


'-,=, 


BOOK   VIII.  Al 

Yet  it,  with  all  its  preciousness,  was  due 

To  Virtue,  and  around  her  should  have  shed, 

Unasked,  its  savory  smell ;  but  Vice,  deformed 

Itself,  and  ugly,  and  of  flavor  rank, 

To  rob  fair  Virtue  of  so  sweet  an  incense, 

And  with  it  to  anoint  and  salve  its  own 

Kotten  ulcers,  and  perfume  the  path  that  led 

To  death, — strove  daily  by  a  thousand  means  : 

And  oft  succeeded  to  make  Virtue  sour 

In  the  world's  nostrils,  and  its  loathly  self 

Smell  sweetly.     Rumor  was  the  messenger 

Of  defamation,  and  so  swift  that  none 

Could  be  the  first  to  tell  an  evil  tale  ; 

And  was,  withal,  so  infamous  for  lies, 

That  he  who  of  her  sayings,  on  his  creed, 

The  fewest  entered,  was  deemed  wisest  man. 

The  fool,  and  many  who  had  credit,  too, 

For  wisdom,  grossly  swallowed  all  she  said, 

Unsifted  ;  and  although,  at  every  word, 

They  heard  her  contradict  herself,  and  saw, 

Hourly,  they  were  imposed  upon  and  mocked, 

Yet  still  they  ran  to  hear  her  speak,  and  stared, 

And  wondered  much,  and  stood  aghast,  and  said 

It  could  not  be  ;  and,  while  they  blushed  for  shamn 

At  their  OAvn  faith,  and  seemed  to  doubt,  believed, 

And  whom  they  met,  with  many  sanctions,  told. 

So  did  experience  fail  to  teach ; — so  hard 

It  was  to  learn  this  simple  truth, — confirmed 

At  every  corner  by  a  thousand  proofs, 

That  common  Fame  most  impudently  lied. 

'Twas  Slander  filled  her  mouth  with  lying  words- 
Slander,  the  foulest  whelp  of  Sin.     The  man 
In  whom  this  spirit  entered  was  undone. 
His  tongue  was  set  on  fire  of  hell,  his  heart 
v.~as  black  as  deith,  his  legs  were  faint  with  haste 


372  THE  OC/dRSE   OF  TIME. 

To  propagate  the  lie  his  soul  had  framed. 
His  pillow  was  the  peace  of  families 
Destroyed,  the  sigh  of  innocence  reproached, 
Broken  friendships,  and  the  strife  of  brotherhoods 
Yet  did  he  spare  his  sleep,  and  hear  the  clock 
Number  the  midnight  watches,  on  his  bed. 
Devising  mischief  more ;  and  early  rose, 
And  made  most  hellish  meals  of  good  men's  names. 

From  door  to  door  you  might  have  seen  him  speed, 
Or  placed  amidst  a  group  of  gaping  fools, 
And  whispering  in  their  ears,  with  his  foul  lips. 
Peace  fled  the  neighborhood  in  which  he  made 
\[is  haunts  ;  and,  like  a  moral  pestilence, 
before  his  breath,  the  healthy  shoots  and  blooms 
Of  social  joy  and  happiness  decayed. 
Fools  only  in  his  company  were  seen, 
And  those  forsaken  of  God,  and  to  themselves 
Given  up.     The  prudent  shunned  him  and  his  house 
As  one  who  had  a  deadly  moral  plague. 
And  fain  would  all  have  shunned  him  at  the  day 
Of  judgment ;  but  in  vain.     All  who  gave  ear 
With  greediness,  or  wittingly  their  tongues 
Made  herald  to  his  lies,  around  him  wailed ; 
While  on  his  face,  thrown  back  by  injured  men, 
In  characters  of  ever-blushing  shame, 
Appeared  ten  thousand  slanders,  all  his  own. 

Among  the  accursed,  who  sought  a  hiding  place 
In  vain,  from  fierceness  of  Jehovah's  rage, 
And  from  the  hot  displeasure  of  the  Lamb, 
Most  wretched,  most  contemptible,  most  vile, — 
Stood  the  false  priest,  and  in  his  conscience  felt 
The  fellest  gnaw  of  the  Undying  Worm. 
And  so  he  might,  for  he  had  on  his  hands 
The  blood  of  souls,  that  would  not  wipe  a\v%y. 


BOOK  vm.  373 

Hear  what  he  was.    He  swore  in  sight  of  God 
And  man,  to  preach  his  master,  Jesus  Christ ; 
Yet  preached  himself :  he  swore  that  love  of  souls, 
Alone,  had  drawn  him  to  the  church ;  yet  strewed 
The  path  that  led  to  hell  with  tempting  flowers, 
And  in  the  ear  of  sinners,  as  they  took 
The  way  of  death,  he  whispered  peace :  he  swore 
Away  all  love  of  lucre,  all  desire 
Of  earthly  pomp  ;  and  yet  a  princely  seat 
He  liked,  and  to  the  clink  of  Mammon's  box 
Gave  most  rapacious  ear.     His  prophecies, 
He  swore,  were  from  the  Lord  ;  and  yet,  taught  lies 
For  gain :  with  quackish  ointment,  healed  the  wounds 
And  bruises  of  the  soul  outside,  but  left, 
Witliin,  the  pestilent  matter  unobserved, 
To  sap  the  moral  constitution  quite, 
And  soon  to  burst  again,  incurable. 
He  with  untempered  mortar  daubed  the  walls 
Of  Zion,  saying,  Peace,  when  there  was  none. 
The  man  who  came  with  thirsty  soul  to  hear 
Of  Jesus,  went  away  unsatisfied ; 
For  he  another  gospel  preached  than  Paul, 
And  one  that  had  no  Saviour  in't ;  and  yet, 
His  life  was  worse.     Faith,  charity,  and  love, 
Humility,  forgiveness,  holiness, 
Were  words  well  lettered  in  his  sabbath  creed ; 
But  with  his  life  he  wrote  as  plain,  Revenge, 
Pride,  tyranny,  and  lust  of  wealth  and  power 
Inordinate,  and  lewdness  unashamed. 
He  was  a  wolf  in  clothing  of  the  lamb, 
That  stole  into  the  fold  of  God,  and  on 
The  blood  of  souls,  which  he  did  sell  to  death, 
Grew  fat ;  and  yet,  when  any  would  have  turned 
Him  out,  he  cried,  "  Touch  not  the  priest  of  God." 
And  that  he  was  anointed,  fools  believed ; 
But  knew,  that  day,  he  was  the  devil's  priest, 
32 


374  THE   COURSE    OP    TIME. 

Anointed  by  the  hands  of  Sin  and  Death, 
And  set  peculiarly  apart  to  ill, — 
While  on  him  smoked  the  vials  of  perdition, 
Poured  measureless.     Ah  me  !  what  cursing  then 
Was  heaped  upon  his  head  by  ruined  souls, 
That  charged  him  with  their  murder,  as  he  stood, 
With  eye  of  all  the  unredeemed  most  sad, 
Waiting  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  Man  ! 
But  let  me  pause,  for  thou  hast  seen"  his  place 
And  punishment,  beyond  the  sphere  of  love. 

Much  was  removed  that  tempted  once  to  sin. 
Avarice  no  gold,  no  wine  the  drunkard,  saw. 
But  Envy  had  enough,  as  heretofore, 
To  fill  his  heart  with  gall  and  bitterness. 
What  made  the  man  of  envy  what  he  was, 
Was  worth  in  others,  vileness  in  himself. 
A  lust  of  praise,  with  undeserving  deeds, 
And  conscious  poverty  of  soul :  and  still 
It  was  his  earnest  work  and  daily  toil, 
With  lying  tongue,  to  make  the  noble  seem 
Mean  as  himself.     On  fame's  high  hill  he  saw 
The  laurel  spread  its  everlasting  green, 
And  wished  to  climb  ;  but  felt  his  knees  too  weak, 
And  stood,  below,  unhappy,  laying  hands 
Upon  the  strong,  ascending  gloriously 
The  steps  of  honor,  bent  to  draw  them  back, 
Involving  oft  the  brightness  of  their  path, 
In  mists  his  breath  had  raised.  Whene'er  he  heard, 
As  oft  he  did,  of  joy  and  happiness, 
And  great  prosperity,  and  rising  worth, 
'Twas  like  a  wave  of  wormwood  o'er  his  soul 
Rolling  its  bitterness.     His  joy  was  wo, 
The  wo  of  others.     When,  from  wealth  to  want, 
From  praises  to  reproach,  from  peace  to  strife, 
From  mirth  to  tears,  he  saw  a  brother  fall, 


BOOK  vm.  37. 

Or  Virtue  make  a  slip, — his  dreams  were  sweet. 

But  chief  with  Slander,  daughter  of  his  own, 

He  took  unhallowed  pleasure.     When  she  talked, 

And  with  her  filthy  lips  defiled  the  best, 

His  ear  Irew  near ;  with  wide  attention  gaped 

His  mouth ;  his  eye,  well  pleased,  as  eager  gazed 

As  glutton,  when  the  dish  he  most  desired 

Was  placed  before  him  ;  and  a  horrid  mirth, 

At  intervals,  with  laughter  shook  his  sides. 

The  critic,  too,  who,  for  a  bit  of  bread, 

In  book  that  fell  aside  before  the  ink 

Was  dry,  poured  forth  excessive  nonsense,  gave 

Him  much  delight.     The  critics, — some,  but  few, — 

Were  worthy  men,  and  earned  renown  which  had 

Immortal  roots  ;  but  most  were  weak  and  vile. 

And,  as  a  cloudy  swarm  of  summer  flies, 

With  angry  hum  and  slender  lance,  beset 

The  sides  of  some  huge  animal ;  so  did 

They  buzz  about  the  illustrious  man,  and  fain, 

With  his  immortal  honor,  down  the  stream 

Of  fame  would  have  descended ;  but,  alas ! 

The  hand  of  Time  drove  them  away.     They  were, 

Indeed,  a  simple  race  of  men,  who  had 

One  only  art,  which  taught  them  still  to  say, 

Whate'er  was  done  might  have  been  better  done; 

And  with  this  art,  not  ill  to  learn,  they  made 

A  shift  to  live.     But,  sometimes  too,  beneath 

The  dust  they  raised,  was  worth  a  while  obscured ; 

And  then  did  Envy  prophesy  and  laugh. 

O  Envy  !  hide  thy  bosom,  hide  it  deep. 

A  thousand  snakes,  with  black,  envenomed  mouths, 

Nest  there,  and  hiss,  and  feed  tlirough  all  thy  heait. 

Such  one  I  saw,  here  interposing,  said 
The  new  arrived  in  that  dark  den  of  shame, 
Whom  who  hath  seen  shall  never  wish  to  see 


576  THE   COUttSE   OF  TIME. 

Again.     JtJefore  him,  in  the  infernal  gloom, 
That  omnipresent  shape  of  Virtue  stood 
On  which  he  ever  threw  his  eye;  and,  like 
A  cinder  that  had  life  and  feeling,  seemed 
His  face,  with  inward  pining,  to  be  what 
He  could  not  be.     As  being  that  had  burned 
Continually,  in  slow-consuming  fire, — 
Half  an  eternity,  and  was  to  burn 
For  evermore,  he  looked.     Oh  !  sight  to  be 
Forgotten  !  thought  too  horrible  to  think  ! 

But  say,  believing  in  such  wro  to  come, 
Such  dreadful  certainty  of  endless  pain, 
Could  beings  of  forecasting  mould,  as  thou 
Entitlest  men,  deliberately  waDc  on, 
Unscared,  and  overleap  their  own  belief 
Into  the  lake  of  ever-burning  fire  ? 

Thy  tone  of  asking  seems  to  make  reply, 
And  rightly  seems  :     They  did  not  so  believe. 
Not  one  of  all  thou  sawst  lament  and  wail 
In  Tophit,  perfectly  believed  the  word 
Of  God,  else  none  had  thither  gone.     Absurd, 
To  think  that  beings,  made  with  reason,  formed 
To  calculate,  compare,  choose,  and  reject, 
By  nature  taught,  and  self,  and  every  sense, 
To  choose  the  good,  and  pass  the  evil  by, 
Cou.d,  with  full  credence  of  a  time  to  come, 
When  all  the  wicked  should  be  really  damned, 
And  cast  beyond  the  sphere  of  light  and  love, 
Have  persevered  in  sin  !     Too  foolish  this 
For  folly  in  its  prime.     Can  aught  that  thinks 
And  wills  choose  certain  evil,  and  reject 
Good,  in  his  heart  believing  he  does  so  ? 
Could  man  choose  pain,  instead  of  endless  joy? 
Mad  supposition,  thougl    maintained  by  some 


BOOK.  VHI.  377 

Of  honest  mind.     Behold  a  man  condemned  .' 
Either  he  ne'er  inquired,  and  therefore  he 
Could  not  believe  ;  or,  else,  he  carelessly 
Inquired,  and  something  other  than  the  word 
Of  God  received  into  his  cheated  faith  ; 
And  therefore  he  did  not  believe,  but  down 
To  hell  descended,  leaning  on  a  lie. 

Faith  was  bewildered  much  by  men  who  meant 
To  make  it  clear,  so  simple  in  itself, 
A  thought  so  rudimental  and  so  plain, 
That  none  by  comment  could  it  plainer  make. 
All  faith  was  one.     In  object,  not  in  kind, 
The  diiference  lay.     The  faith  that  saved  a  soul, 
And  that  which  in  the  common  truth  believed, 
In  essence,  were  the  same.     Hear,  then,  what  faith, 
True,  Christian  faith,  which  brought  salvation,  was : 
Belief  in  all  that  God  revealed  to  men  ; 
Observe,  in  all  that  God  revealed  to  men, 
In  all  he  promised,  threatened,  commanded,  said, 
Without  exception,  and  without  a  doubt. 
Who  thus  believed,  being  by  the  Spirit  touched, 
As  naturally  the  fruits  of  faith  produced, 
Truth,  temperance,  meekness,  holiness,  and  love, 
As  human  eye  from  darkness  sought  the  light. 
How  could  he  else  r     If  he,  who  had  firm  faith 
The  morrow's  sun  should  rise,  ordered  affairs 
Accordingly  ;  if  he,  who  had  iirm  faith 
That  spring,  and  summer,  and  autumnal  days, 
Should  pass  away,  and  winter  really  come, 
Prepared  accordingly  ;  if  he,  who  saw 
A  bolt  of  death  approaching,  turned  aside 
And  let  it  pass  ; — as  surely  did  the  man, 
Who  verily  believed  the  word  of  God, 
Though  erring  whiles,  its  general  laws  obey, 
Turn  back  from  hell,  and  take  the  way  to  heaven. 
32* 


378 


THE   COU11SE   OP   TIME. 


That  faith  was  necessary,  some  alleged, 
Unreined  and  uncontrollable  by  will. 
Invention  savoring  much  of  hell !  Indeed, 
It  was  the  master-stroke  of  wickedness, 
Last  effort  of  Abaddon's  council  dark, 
To  make  man  think  himself  a  slave  to  fate, 
And,  worst  of  all,  a  slave  to  fate  in  faith, 
For  thus  'twas  reasoned  then  :  From  faith  alone, 
And  from  opinion,  springs  all  action  ;  hence, 
If  faith's  compelled,  so  is  all  action  too  : 
But  deeds  compelled  are  not  accountable ; 
So  man  is  not  amenable  to  God. 

Arguing  that  brought  such  monstrous  birth,  though 

good 

It  seemed,  must  have  been  false.     Most  false  it  was, 
And  by  the  book  of  God  condemned,  throughout. 
"We  freely  own,  that  truth,  when  set  before 
The  mind,  with  perfect  evidence,  compelled 
Belief;  but  error  lacked  such  witness,  still : 
And  none,  who  now  lament  in  moral  night, 
The  word  of  God  refused  on  evidence 
That  might  not  have  been  set  aside  as  false. 
To  reason,  try,  choose,  and  reject,  was  free. 
Hence  God,  by  faith,  acquitted,  or  condemned ; 
Hence  righteous  men,  with  liberty  of  will, 
Believed  ;  and  hence  thou  sawst  in  Erebus 
The  wicked,  who  as  freely  disbelieved 
What  else  had  led  them  to  the  land  of  life. 


COURSE     OF     TIME. 

BOOK  IX. 


ANALYSIS  Otf  BOOK  IX. 

The  Book  opens  with  an  apostrophe  to  Religion.  The  Bard  re 
sumes  his  narrative,  and,  continuing  the  description  of  the  As- 
•embly  collected  for  Judgment,  particularizes  several  classes 
of  the  Redeemed.  While  he  mentions  the  classes,  he  points 
them  out  as  they  appear  on  the  heavenly  summits  rejoicing. 

First  among  the  holy  shone  the  faithful  minister  of  God.  The 
religious  philosopher  appeared  in  uncommon  glory  The  right 
eous  governor  and  uncorrupted  statesman,  the  man  or  active 
benevolence,  and  the  Christian  poet,  were  each  conspicuous. 
None  of  the  Redeemed  were  obscure,  and  multitudes  were  il 
lustrious  that  had  no  name  on  earth. 

The  Bard  mentions  the  effect  produced  on  the  minds  of  the  as 
sembled  multitudes  by  the  absolute  certainties  of  their  situa 
tion,  by  the  correct  judgments  they  now  formed,  the  just  im 
pressions  they  had  of  themselves,  and  the  predictions  they  saw 
fulfilled. 

Suddenly  a  host  of  Angels  appear,  and  the  vast  multitude  of  good 
and  bad  are  separated  to  right  and  left  in  the  final  parting ; 
the  righteous  being  gathered  with  joy  beneath  a  canopy  of 
golden  beams;  the  wicked  bound  under  a  dark  and  thundering 
cloud  of  wrath,  where  stood  also  Satan  and  his  host,  wsutir.g 
for  Judgment  and  ths  vengeance  due  to  his  rebellion  in  heaven, 
and  his  stratagems  Dn  earth.  Thus  separated,  the  Redeemed 
and  the  Reprobate  stand  expecting  the  Judge,  and  reading, 
upon  either  side  of  a  bright  arch  bending  high  hetween  them, 
a  thrilling  inscription. 


THE 

COURSE     OF     TIME. 
BOOK    IX. 

FAIREST  of  those  that  left  the  calm  of  heaven, 
And  ventured  down  to  man,  with  words  of  peace, 
Daughter  of  Grace  !  known  by  whatever  name, 
Religion,  Virtue,  Piety,  or  Love 
Of  Holiness,  the  day  of  thy  reward 
Was  come.     Ah  !  thou  wast  long  despised,  despised 
By  those  thou  wooedst  from  death  to  endless  life. 
Modest  and  meek,  in  garments  white  as  those 
That  seraphs  wear,  and  countenance  as  mild 
As  Mercy  looking  on  Repentance'  tear ; 
With  eye  of  purity,  now  darted  up 
To  God's  eternal  throne,  now  humbly  bent 
Upon  thyself,  and,  weeping  down  thy  cheek, 
That  glowed  with  universal  love  immense, 
A  tear,  pure  as  the  dews  that  fall  in  heaven ; 
In  thy  left  hand,  the  olive  branch,  and  in 
Thy  right,  the  crown  of  immortality ; — 
With  noiseless  foot,  thou  walkedst  the  vales  of  eartli, 
Beseeching  men,  from  age  to  age,  to  turn 
From  utter  death,  to  turn  from  wo  to  bliss ; 
Beseeching  evermore,  and  evermore 
Despised — not  evermore  despised,  not  now, 
Not  at  the  day  of  doom ;  most  lovely  then, 
Most  honorable,  thou  appeared,  and  most 
To  be  desired.     The  guilty  heard  the  song 


382  THE    COU11SE    OF   1IME. 

Of  thy  redeemed,  how  loud !  and  saw  thy  face, 

How  fair  !     Alas  !  it  was  too  late !  the  hour 

Of  making  friends  was  passed,  thy  favor  then 

Might  not  be  sought ;  but  recollection,  sad 

And  accurate,  as  miser  counting  o'er 

And  o'er  again  the  sum  he  must  lay  oiit, 

.Distinctly  in  the  wicked's  ear  rehearsed 

Each  opportunity  despised  and  lost, 

While  on  them  gleamed  thy  holy  look,  that  like 

A  fiery  torrent  went  into  their  souls. 

The  day  of  thy  reward  was  come,  the  day 

Of  great  remuneration  to  thy  friends, 

To  those,  known  by  whatever  name,  who  sought, 

In  every  place,  in  every  time,  to  do 

Unfeignedly  their  Maker's  will,  revealed, 

Or  gathered  else  from  nature's  school ;  well  pleased 

With  God's  applause  alone,  that,  like  a  stream 

Of  sweetest  melody,  at  still  of  night 

By  wanderer  heard,  in  their  most  secret  ear 

For  ever  whispered,  Peace ;  and,  as  a  string 

Of  kindred  tone  awoke,  their  inmost  soul 

Responsive  answered,  Peace;  inquiring  still 

And  searching,  night  and  day,  to  know  their  duty, 

When  known,  with  undisputing  trust,  with  love 

Unquenchable,  with  zeal,  by  reason's  lamp 

Inflamed, — performing  ;  and  to  Him,  by  whose 

Profound,  all-calculating  skill  alone, 

llesults — results  even  of  the  slightest  act, 

Are  full)  grasped,  with  unsuspicious  faith, 

All  consequences  leaving  ;  to  abound, 

Or  want,  alike  prepared  ;  who  knew  to  be 

Exalted  how,  and  how  to  be  abased ; 

How  best  to  live,  and  how  to  die  when  asked. 

Their  prayers  sincere,  their  alms  in  secret  done, 

Their  fightings  with  themselves,  their  abstinence 

From  pleasure,  though  by  mortal  eye  unseen, 


BCOK   IX.  38* 

Their  hearts  of  resignation  to  the  will 

Of  Heaven,  their  patient  bearing  of  reproach 

And  shame,  their  charity,  and  faith,  and  hope, — 

Thou  didst  remember,  and  in  full  repaid. 

No  bankrupt  thou,  who  at  the  bargained  hour 

Of  payment  due,  sent  to  his  creditors 

A  tale  of  losses  and  mischances,  long. 

Ensured  by  God  himself,  and  from  the  stores 

And  treasures  of  his  wealth,  at  will  supplied, — 

Religion,  thou  alone,  of  all  that  men, 

On  earth,  gave  credit,  to  be  reimbursed 

On  the  other  side  the  grave,  didst  keep  thy  word, 

Thy  day,  and  all  thy  promises  fulfilled. 

As  in  the  mind,  rich  with  unborrowed  wealth, 
Where  multitudes  of  thoughts  for  utterance  striye, 
And  all  so  fair,  that  each  seems  worthy  first 
To  enter  on  the  tongue,  and  from  the  lips 
Have  passage  forth,— selection  hesitates 
Perplexed,  and  loses  time,  anxious,  since  all 
Cannot  be  taken,  to  take  the  best ;  and  yet 
Afraid,  lest  what  he  left  be  worthier  still ; 
And  grieving  much,  where  all  so  goodly  look, 
To  leave  rejected  one,  or  in  the  rear 
Let  any  be  obscured  :  so  did  the  bard, 
Though  not  unskilled,  as  on  that  multitude 
Of  men  who  once  awoke  to  judgment,  he 
Threw  back  reflection,  hesitating  pause. 
For  as  his  harp,  in  tone  severe,  had  sung 
What  figure  the  most  famous  sinners  made, 
When  from  the  grave  they  rose  unmasked ;  so  did 
He  wish  to  character  the  good  ;  but  yet, 
Among  so  many,  glorious  all,  all  worth 
Immortal  fame,  with  whom  begin,  with  whom 
To  end,  was  difficult  to  choose  ;  and  long 
His  auditors,  upon  the  tiptoe  raised 


384  THE   COUBSE   OF  TIME. 

Of  expectation,  might  have  kept,  had  not 
His  eye — for  so  it  is  in  heaven,  that  what 
Is  needed  always  is  at  hand — beheld 
That  moment,  on  a  mountain  near  the  throne 
Of  God,  the  most  renowned  of  the  redeemed, 
Eejoicing  :  nor  wrho  first,  who  most,  to  praise, 
Debated  more ;  but  thus,  with  sweeter  note, 
Well  pleased  to  sing,  with  highest  eulogy, 
And  first,  whom  God  applauded  most, — began. 

With  patient  ear,  thou  now  hast  heard,— though 

whiles, 

Aside  digressing,  ancient  feeling  turned 
My  lyre, — what  shame  the  wicked  had,  that  day, 
What  wailing,  what  remorse  ;  so  hear,  in  brief, 
How  bold  the  righteous  stood,  the  men  redeemed, 
How  fair  in  virtue,  and  in  hope  how  glad  1 
And  first  among  the  holy  shone,  as  best 
Became,  the  faithful  minister  of  God. 

See  where  he  walks  on  yonder  mount  that  lifts 
Its  summit  high,  on  the  right  hand  of  bliss, 
Sublime  in  glory,  talking  with  his  peers 
Of  the  incarnate  Saviour's  love,  and  passed 
Affliction  lost  in  present  joy  !     See  how 
His  face  with  heavenly  ardor  glows,  and  how 
His  hand,  enraptured,  strikes  the  golden  lyre  ! 
As  now,  conversing  of  the  Lamb,  once  slain, 
He  speaks  ;  and  now,  from  vines  that  never  hear 
Of  winter,  but  in  monthly  harvest  yield 
Their  fruit  abundantly,  he  plucks  the  grapes 
Of  life  !     But  what  he  was  on  earth  it  most 
Behoves  to  say.     Elect  by  God  himself, 
Anointed  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  set 
Apart  to  the  great  work  of  Caving  men ; 
Instructed  fully  in  the  will   livine, 


Supplied  with  grace  in  store,  as  need  might  ask, 
And  with  the  stamp  and  signature  of  heaven, 
Truth,  mercy,  patience,  holiness,  and  love. 
Accredited  ; — he  was  a  man,  by  God, 
The  Lord,  commissioned  to  make  known  to  men 
The  eternal  counsels ;  in  his  Master's  name, 
To  treat  with  them  of  everlasting  things, 
Of  life,  death,  bliss,  and  wo  ;  to  offer  terms 
Of  pardon,  grace,  and  peace,  to  the  rebelled  ; 
To  teach  the  ignorant  soul,  to  cheer  the  sad  ; 
To  bind,  to  loose,  with  all  authority, 
To  give  the  feeble  strength,  the  hopeless  hope. 
To  help  the  halting,  and  to  lead  the  blind ; 
To  warn  the  careless,  heal  the  sick  of  heart, 
Arouse  the  indolent,  and  on  the  proud 
And  obstinate  offender  to  denounce 
The  wrath  of  God.     All  other  men,  what  name 
Soe'er  they  bore,  whatever  office  held, 
If  lawful  held,— the  magistrate  supreme, 
Or  else  subordinate,  were  chosen  by  men* 
Their  fellows,  and  from  men  derived  their  power, 
And  were  accountable  for  ail  they  did, 
To  men;  but  he,'  alone,  his  office  held 
Immediately  from  God,  from  God  received 
Authority,  and  was  to  none  but  God 
Amenable.     The  elders  of  the  church, 
Indeed,  upon  him  laid  their  hands,  and  set 
Him  visibly  apart  to  preach  the  word 
Of  life;  but  this  was  merely  outward  rite, 
And  decent  ceremonial,  performed 
On  all  alike,  and  oft,  as  thou  hast  heard, 
Performed  on  those  God  never  sent ;  his  call, 
His  consecration,  his  anointing,  all 
Were  inward,  in  the  conscience  heard  and  felt. 
Thus,  by  Jehovah  chosen,  and  ordained 
To  take  into  his  charge  the  souls  of  men, 
33 


386  THE    COURSE   OP  TIME. 

And  for  his  trust  to  answer  at  the  day 

Of  judgment, — great  plenipotent  of  heaven, 

And  representative  of  God  on  earth, — 

Fearless  of  men  and  devils  ;  unabashed 

By  sin  enthroned,  or  mockery  of  a  prince, 

Unawed  by  armed  legions,  unseduced 

By  offered  bribes,  burning  with  love  to  souls 

Unquenchable,  and  mindful  still  of  his 

Great  charge  and  vast  responsibility  ; — 

High  in  the  temple  of  the  living  God, 

He  stood,  amidst  the  people,  and  declared 

Aloud  the  truth,  the  whole  revealed  truth, 

Keady  to  seal  it  with  his  blood.     Divine 

Resemblance  most  complete  !  with  mercy  now 

And  love,  his  face,  illumed,  shone  gloriously  ; 

And  frowning  now  indignantly,  it  seemed 

As  if  offended  Justice,  from  his  eye, 

Streamed    forth    vindictive    wrath !       Men    heard, 

alarmed ; 

The  uncircumcised  infidel  believed  ; 
Light-thoughted  Mirth  ^rew  serious,  and  wept ; 
The  laugh  profane  sunk  in  a  sigh  of  deep 
Repentance  ;  the  blasphemer,  kneeling,  prayed, 
And,  .prostrate  in  the  dust,  for  mercy  called ; 
And  cursed,  old,  forsaken  sinners  gnashed 
Their  teeth,  as  if  their  hour  had  been  arrived. 
Such  was  his  calling,  his  commission  such. 
Yet  he  was  humble,  kind,  forgiving,  meek. 
Easy  to  be  entreated,  gracious,  mild  ; 
And,  with  all  patience  and  affection,  taught, 
Kebuked,  persuaded,  solaced,  counselled,  wanted, 
In  fervent  style  and  manner.     Needy,  poor, 
And  dying  men,  like  music,  heard  his  feet 
Approach  their  beds  ;  and  guilty  wretches  took 
New  hope,  and  in  his  prayers  wept  and  smiled, 
And  blessed  him,  as  they  died  forgiven  ;  and  al 


BOOK.       IX.  «*"• 

Saw  in  his  face  contentment,  in  hi*  life. 

The  path  to  glory  and  perpetual  joy. 

Deep-learned  in  the  philosophy  of  heaven, 

He  searched  the  causes  out  of  good  and  ill, 

Profoundly  calculating  their  effects 

Far  past  the  bounds  of  Time ;  and  balancingv 

In  the  arithmetic  of  future  things, 

The  loss  and  profit  of  the  soul  to  all 

Eternity.     A  skilful  workman  he 

In  God's  great  moral  vineyard  :  what  to  prune 

With  cautious  hand  he  knew,  what  to  uproot ; 

What  were  mere  weeds,  and  what  celestial  plants, 

Which  had  unfading  vigor  in  them,  knew  ; 

Nor  knew  alone,  but  watched  them  night  and  day, 

And  reared  and  nourished  them,  till  fit  to  be 

Transplanted  to  the  paradise  below. 

Oh  '  who  can  speak  his  praise  ?  great,  humble  man ! 
He  in  the  current  of  destruction  stood, 
And  warned  the  sinner  of  his  wo  ;  led  on  - 
Immanuel's  members  in  the  evil  day  ; 
And,  with  the  everlasting  arms  embraced 
Himself  around,  stood  in  the  dreadful  front 
Of  battle,  high,  and  waired  victoriously 
With  death  and  hell.     And  now  was  come  his  rest, 
His  triumph  day.     Illustrious  like  a  sun, 
In  that  assembly,  he,  shining  from  far, 
Most  excellent  in  glory,  stood  assured, 
Waiting  the  promised  crown,  the  promised  throne, 
1'he  welcome  arid  approval  of  his  Lord. 
Xor  one  alone,  but  many — prophets,  priests, 
Apostles,  great  reformers,  all  that  served 
Messiah  faithfully,  like  stars  appeared 
Of  fairest  beam  ;  and  roiuid  them  gathered,  clad 
In  white,  the  vouchers  of  their  ministry — 
The  ilock  their  care  had  nourished,  fed,  and  saved. 


388  THE    COURSE    OF   TIME. 

Nor  yet  in  common  glory  blazing,  stood 
The  true  philosopher,  decided  friend 
Of  truth  and  man.     Determined  foe  of  all 
Deception,  calm,  collected,  patient,  wise. 
And  humble,  undeceived  by  outward  shape 
Of  things,  by  fashion's  revelry  uncharmed, 
By  honor  unbewitched, — he  left  the  chase 
Of  vanity,  and  all  the  quackeries 
Of  Hie,  to  fools  and  heroes,  or  whoe'er 
Desired  them ;  and  with  reason,  much  despised, 
Traduced,  yet  heavenly  reason,  to  the  shade 
Retired — retired,  but  not  to  dream,  or  build 
Of  ghostly  fancies,  seen  in  the  deep  noon 
Of  sleep,  ill-balanced  theories  ;  retired, 
But  did  not  leave  mankind  ;  in  pity,  not 
In  wrath,  retired ;  and  still,  though  distant,  kept 
His  eye  on  men  ;  at  proper  angle  took 
His  stand  to  see  them  better,  and,  beyond 
The  clamor  which  the  bells  of  folly  made, 
That  most  had  hung  about  them,  to  consult 
With  nature,  how  their  madness  might  be  cured, 
And  how  their  true  substantial  comforts  might 
Be  multiplied,     lieligious  man  !  what  God 
By  prophets,  priests,  evangelists,  revealed 
Of  sacred  truth,  he  thankfully  received, 
And,  by  its  light  directed,  went  in  search 
Of  more.     Before  him,  darkness  fled  ;  and  all 
The  goblin  tribe,  that  hung  upon  the  breasts 
Of  Night,  and  haunted  still  the  moral  gloom 
With  shapeless  forms,  and  blue,  infernal  lights, 
And  indistinct,  and  devilish  whisperings, 
That  the  miseducated  fancies  vexed 
Of  superstitious  men, — at  his  approach, 
Dispersed,  invisible.     Where'  er  he  went, 
This  lesson  still  he  taught,  To  fear  no  ill 
But  sin,  no  being  but  Almighty  God. 


BOOK  ix.  389 

All- comprehending  sage  !  too  hard  alone 

For  him  was  man's  salvation  ;  all  besides, 

Of  use  or  comfort,  that  distinction  made 

Between  the  desperate  savage,  scarcely  raised 

Above  the  beast  whose  flesh  he  ate,  undressed, 

And  the  most  polished  of  the  human  race, 

Was  product  of  his  persevering  search. 

Religion  owed  him  much,  as  from  the  false 

She  suffered  much  ;  for  still  his  main  design, 

In  all  his  contemplations,  was  to  trace 

The  wisdom,  providence,  and  love  of  God, 

And  to  his  fellows,  less  observant,  show 

Them  forth.     From  prejudice  redeemed,  with  all 

His  passions  still,  above  the  common  world, 

Sublime  in  reason  and  in  aim  sublime, 

He  sat,  and  on  the  marvellous  works  of  God 

Sedately  thought ;  now  glancing  up  his  eye, 

Intelligent,  through  all  the  starry  dance, 

And  penetrating  now  the  deep  remote 

Of  central  causes  in  the  womb  opaque 

Of  matter  hid  ;  now  with  inspection  nice, 

Entering  the  mystic  labyrinths  of  the  mind, 

Where  thought,  of  notice  ever  shy,  behind 

Thought,  disappearing,  still  retired  ;  and  still, 

Thought  meeting  thought,  and  thought  awakening 

thought, 

And  mingling  still  with  thought  in  endless  maze, — 
Bewildered  observation  ;  now,  with  eye 
Yet  more  severely  purged,  looking  far  down 
Into  the  heart,  where  passion  wove  a  web 
Of  thousand  thousand  threads,  in  grain  and  hue 
All  different ;  then,  upward  venturing  whiles, 
But  reverently,  and  in  his  hand,  the  light 
Revealed,  near  the  eternal  Throne,  he  gazed, 
Philosophizing  less  than  worshipping. 
Most  truly  great !  his  intellectual  strength 
33* 


390  THE    COUflSE   OJF   TIME. 

And  knowledge  vast,  to  men  of  lesser  mind, 
Seemed  infinite ;  yet,  from  his  high  pursuits, 
And  reasonings  most  profound,  he  still  returned 
Home,  with  an  humbler  and  a  warmer  heart  .• 
And  none  so  lowly  bowed  before  his  God, 
As  none  so  well  His  awful  majesty 
And  goodness  comprehended;  or  so  well 
His  own  dependency  and  weakness  knew. 

How  glorious  now,  with  vision  purified 
At  the  Essential  Truth,  entirely  free 
From  error,  he,  investigating  still, — 
For  knowledge  is  not  found,  unsought,  in  heaven,— 
From  world  to  world,  at  pleasure,  roves,  on  wing 
Of  golden  ray  upborne  ;  or,  at  the  feet 
Of  heaven's  most  ancient  sages,  sitting,  hears 
New  wonders  of  the  wondrous  works  of  God  ! 

Illustrious,  too,  that  morning,  stood  the  man 
Exalted  by  the  people,  to  the  throne 
Of  government,  established  on  the  base 
Of  justice,  liberty,  and  equal  right ; 
Who,  in  his  countenance  sublime,  expressed 
A  nation's  majesty,  and  yet  was  meek 
And  humble ;  and  in  royal  palace  gave 
Example  to  the  meanest,  of  the  fear 
Of  God,  and  all  integrity  of  life 
And  manners  ;  who,  august,  yet  lowly ;  who, 
Severe,  yet  gracious  ;  in  his  very  heart, 
Detesting  all  oppression,  all  intent 
Of  private  aggrandizement ;  and,  the  first 
In  every  public  duty,  held  the  scales 
Of  justice,  and  as  the  law,  which  reigned  in  him, 
Commanded,  gave  rewards  ;  or,  with  the  edge 
Vindictive,  smote,  now  light,  now  heavily, 
Ace  urding  to  the  stature  of  the  crime. 


BOOK   IX.  391 

Conspicuous  like  an  oak  of  healthiest  bough, 

Deep-rooted  in  his  country's  love,  he  stood, 

And  gave  his  hand  to  virtue,  helping  up 

The  honest  man  to  honor  and  renown  ; 

And,  with  the  look  which  goodness  wears  in  wrath, 

Withering  the  very  blood  of  Knavery, 

And  from  his  presence  driving  far,  ashamed. 


Nor  less  remarkable,  among  the  blessed, 
Appeared  the  man,  who,  in  the  senate-house, 
Watchful,  urihired,  unbribed,  and  uncorrupt, 
And  party  only  to  the  common  weal, 
In  virtue's  awful  rage,  pleaded  for  right, 
With  truth  so  clear,  with  argument  so  strong, 
With  action  so  sincere,  and  tone  so  loud 
And  deep,  as  made  the  despot  quake  behind 
His  adamantine  gates,  and  every  joint, 
In  teiTor,  smite  his  fellow-joint  relaxed  ; 
Or,  marching  to  the  field,  in  burnished  steel,        • 
While,  frowning  on  his  brow,  tremendous  hung 
The  wrath  of  a  whole  people,  long  provoked, — 
Mustered  the  stormy  wings  of  war,  in  day 
Of  dreadful  deeds  ;  and  led  the  battle  on, 
When  Liberty,  swift  as  the  fires  of  heaven, 
In  fury  rode,  with  all  her  hosts,  and  threw 
The  tyrant  down,  or  drove  invasion  back. 
Illustrious  he — illustrious  all  appeared, 
Who  ruled  supreme  in  righteousness  ;  or  held 
Inferior  place,  in  steadfast  rectitude 
Of  soul.     Peculiarly  severe  had  been 
The  nurture  of  their  youth,  their  knowledge  great, 
Great  was  their  wisdom,  great  their  cares,  and  greaf 
Their  self-denial,  and  their  service  done 
To  God  and  man  ;  and  great  was  their  reward, 
&.t  hand,  proportioned  to  their  worthy  deeds. 


392  TJIE   COURSE   OP  TIME. 

Breathe  all  thy  minstrelsy,  immortal  Harp  i 
Breathe  numbers  warm  with  love,  while  I  rehearse— 
Delighted  theme,  resembling  most  the  songs 
Which,  day  and  night,  are  sung  before  the  Lamb  !— 
Thy  praise,  O  Charity !  thy  labors  most 
Divine  ;  thy  sympathy  with  sighs,  and  tears, 
And  groans  ;  thy  great,  thy  god-like  wish,  to  heal 
All  misery,  all  fortune's  wounds,  and  make 
The  soul  of  every  living  thing  rejoice. 
O  thou  wast  needed  much  in  days  of  Time  ! 
No  virtue,  half  so  much  ! — None  half  so  fair ! 
To  all  the  rest,  however  fine,  thou  gavest 
A  finishing  and  polish,  without  which 
No  man  e'er  entered  heaven.     Let  me  record 
His  praise,  the  man  of  great  benevolence, 
Who  pressed  thee  closely  to  his  glowing  heart, 
And  to  thy  gentle  bidding  made  his  feet 
Swift  minister.     Of  all  mankind,  his  soul 
Was  most  in  harmony  with  heaven  ;  as  one 
Sftle  family  of  brothers,  sisters,  friends, 
One  in  their  origin,  one  in  their  rights 
To  all  the  common  gifts  of  providence, 
And  in  their  hopes,  their  joys,  and  sorrows  one^ 
He  viewed  the  universal  human  race. 
He  needed  not  a  law  of  state,  to  force 
Grudging  submission  to  the  law  of  God. 
The  law  of  love  was  in  his  heart,  alive  ; 
What  he  possessed,  he  counted  not  his  own ; 
But,  like  a  faithful  steward  in  a  house 
Of  public  alms,  what  freely  he  received 
He  freely  gave,  distributing  to  all 
The  helpless  the  last  mite  beyond  his  own 
Temperate  support,  and  reckoning  still  the  gift 
But  justice,  due  to  want ;  and  so  it  was, 
Although  the  world,  with  compliment  not  Hi 
Applied,  adorned  it  with  a  fairer  name. 


395 


Nor  did  he  wait  till  to  his  door  the  voice 

Of  supplication  came,  but  went  abroad, 

With  foot  as  silent  as  the  starry  dews, 

In  search  of  misery  that  pined  unseen, 

And  would  not  ask.     And  who  can  tell  what  sights 

He  saw  !  what  groans  he  heard,  in  that  cold  world 

Below  !  where  Sin,  in  league  with  gloomy  Death, 

Marched  daily  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  all 

The  land,  wasting  at  will,  and  making  earth, 

Fair  earth  !  a  lazar-house,  a  dungeon  dark, 

Where  Disappointment  fed  on  ruined  Hope  ; 

Where  Guilt,  worn  out,  leaned  on  the  triple  edge 

Of  want,  remorse,  despair ;  where  Cruelty 

Heached  forth  a  cup  of  wormwood  to  the  lips 

Of  Sorrow,  that  to  deeper  Sorrow  wailed ; 

Where  Mockery,  and  Disease,  and  Poverty 

Met  miserable  Age,  erewhile  sore  bent 

With  his  own  burden ;  where  the  arrowy  winds 

Of  winter  pierced  the  naked  orphan  babe, 

And  chilled  the  mother's  heart,  who  had  no  home ; 

And  where,  alas  !  in  mid-time  of  his  day, 

The  honest  man,  robbed  by  some  villain's  hand, 

Or  with  long  sickness  pale,  and  paler  yet 

With  want  and  hunger,  oft  drank  bitter  draughts 

Of  his  own  tears,  and  had  no  bread  to  eat. 

Oh  !  who  can  tell  what  sights  he  saw,  what  shapes 

Of  wretchedness  !  or  who  describe  what  smiles 

Of  gratitude  illumined  the  face  of  wo, 

While  from  his  hand  he  gave  the  bounty  forth  I 

As  when  the  Sun,  to  Cancer  wheeling  back, 

lleturned  from  Capricorn,  and  showed  the  north, 

That  long  had  lain  in  cold  and  cheerless  night, 

His  beamy  countenance  ;  all  nature  then 

Rejoiced  together  glad  ;  the  flower  looked  up 

And  smiled ;  the  forest,  from  his  locks,  shook  off 

The  hoary  frosts,  and  clapped  his  hands  ;  the  birds 


394  THE   COURSE   OP   TIME. 

Awoke,  and,  singing,  rose  to  meet  the  day ; 

And  from  his  hollow  den,  where  many  montlis 

He  slumbered  sad  in  darkness,  blithe  and  light 

Of  heart  the  savage  sprung,  and  saw  again 

His  mountains  shine,  and  with  new  songs  of  love 

Allured  the  virgin's  ear  :  so  did  the  house, 

The  prison-house  of  guilt,  and  all  the  abodes 

Of  unprovided  helplessness,  revive, 

AS  on  them  looked  the  sunny  messenger 

Of  Charity.     By  angels  tended  still, 

That  marked  his  deeds,  and  wrote  them  in  a  book 

Of  God's  remembrance  ;  careless  he  to  be 

Observed  of  men,  or  have  each  mite  bestowed 

Recorded  punctually,  with  name  and  place, 

In  every  bill  of  news.     Pleased  to  do  good, 

He  gave,  and  sought  no  more,  nor  questioned  much 

Nor  reasoned,  who  deserved  ;  for  well  he  knew 

The  face  of  need.     Ah  me  !  who  could  mistake? 

The  shame  to  ask,  the  want  that  urged  within, 

Composed  a  look  so  perfectly  distinct 

From  all  else  human,  and  withal  so  full 

Of  misery,  that  none  could  pass,  untouched, 

And  be  a  Christian,  or  thereafter  claim, 

In  any  form,  the  name  or  rights  of  man, 

Or,  at  the  day  of  judgment,  lift  his  eye  ; 

While  he,  in  name  of  Christ,  who  gave  the  poor 

A  cup  of  water,  or  a  bit  of  bread, 

Impatient  for  his  advent,  waiting  stood, 

Glowing  in  robes  of  love  and  holiness, 

Heaven's   fairest   dress  !    and  round  him  ranged,  IQ 

white, 

A  thousand  witnesses  appeared,  prepared 
To  tell  his  gracious  deeds  before  the  Throne. 

Nor  unrenowned  among  the  most  renowneu, 
Nor  'mong  the  fairest  unadmired,  that  morn, 


BOOK  rx.  395 

When  highest  fame  was  proof  of  highest  worth, 

Distinguished  stood  the  bard  ;  not  he,  who  sold 

The  incommunicable,  heavenly  gift, 

To  Folly,  and  with  lyre  of  perfect  tone, 

Prepared  by  God  himself,  for  holiest  praise, — 

Vilest  of  traitors  !  most  dishonest  man  ! — 

Sat  by  the  door  of  Ruin,  and  made  there 

A  melody  so  sweet,  and  in  the  mouth 

Of  drunkenness  and  debauch,  that  else  had  croaked 

In  natural  discordance  jarring  harsh, 

Put  so  divine  a  song,  that  many  turned 

Aside,  and  entered  in  undone,  and  thought, 

Meanwhile,  it  was  the  gate  of  heaven,  so  like 

An  angel's  voice  the  music  seemed  ;  nor  he, 

Who,  whining  grievously  of  damsel  coy, 

Or  blaming  fortune,  that  would  nothing  give 

For  doing  naught,  in  indolent  lament 

Unprofitable,  passed  his  piteous  days, 

Making  himself  the  hero  of  his  tale, 

Deserving  ill  the  poet's  name  :  but  he, 

The  bard,  by  God's  own  hand  anointed,  who, 

To  Virtue's  all- delighting  harmony, 

His  numbers  tuned  :  who,  from  the  fount  of  truth, 

Poured  melody,  and  beauty  poured,  and  love, 

In  holy  stream,  into  the  human  heart ; 

And,  from  the  height  of  lofty  argument, 

Who  "justified  the  ways  of  God  to  man," 

And  sung  what  still  he  sings,  approved  in  heaven  , 

Though  now  with  bolder  note,  above  the  damp 

Terrestrial,  which  the  pure  celestial  fire 

Cooled,  and  restrained  in  part  his  flaming  wing 

Philosophy  was  deemed  of  deeper  thought, 
And  judgment  more  severe,  than  Poetry ; 
To  fable,  she,  and  fancy,  more  inclined. 
And  yet,  if  Fancy,  as  was  understood. 


396  THE   COURSE   OF  TIME. 

Was  of  creative  nature,  or  of  power, 
With  self- wrought  stuff,  to  build  a  fabric  up, 
To  mortal  vision  wonderful  and  strange, 
Philosophy,  the  theoretic,  claimed, 
Undoubtedly,  the  first  and  highest  place 
In  Fancy's  favor.     Her  material  souls, 
Her  chance,  her  atoms  shaped  alike,  her  white 
Proved  black,  her  universal  nothing,  all ; 
And  all  her  wondrous  systems,  how  the  mind 
With  matter  met ;  how  man  was  free,  and  yet 
All  pre-ordained ;  how  evil  first  began  ; 
And  chief  her  speculations,  soaring  how, 
Of  the  eternal,  uncreated  Mind, 
Which  left  all  reason  infinitely  far 
Behind — surprising  feat  of  theory  ! — 
Were  pure  creation  of  her  own,  webs  wove 
Of  gossamer  in  Fancy's  lightest  loom. 
And  nowhere,  on  the  list  of  being  made 
By  God  recorded  :  but  her  look,  meanwhile, 
Was  grave  and  studious  ;  and  many  thought 
She  reasoned  deeply,  when  she  wildly  raved. 

The  true,  legitimate,  anointed  bard, 
Whose  song  through  ages  poured  its  melody, 
Was  most  severely  thoughtful,  most  minute 
And  accurate  of  observation,  most 
Familiarly  acquainted  with  all  modes 
And  phases  of  existence.     True,  no  doubt, 
He  had  originally  drunk,  from  out 
The  fount  of  life  and  love,  a  double  draught, 
That  gave  whate'er  he  touched  a  double  life : 
But  this  was  mere  desire  at  first,  and  power 
Devoid  of  means  to  work  by  ;  need  was  still 
Of  persevering,  quick,  inspective  mood 
Of  mind,  of  faithful  memory,  vastly  stored, 
From  universal  being's  ample  field, 


BOOK   ix.  397 

• 

With  knowledge  ;  and  a  judgment,  sound  and  clear 
Well  disciplined  in  nature's  rules  of  taste ; 
Discerning  to  select,  arrange,  combine, 
From  infinite  variety,  and  still 
To  nature  true ;  and  guide  withal,  hard  task, 
The  sacred,  living  impetus  divine, 
Discreetly  through  the  harmony  of  song. 
Completed  thus,  the  poet  sung ;  and  age 
To  age,  enraptured,  heard  his  measures  flow ; 
Enraptured,  for  he  poured  the  very  fac 
And  marrow  of  existence,  through  his  verse, 
And  gave  the  soul,  that  else,  in  selfish  cold. 
Unwarmed  by  kindred  interest,  had  lain, 
A  roomy  life,  a  glowing  relish  high, 
A  sweet,  expansive  brotherhood  of  being — 
Joy  answering  joy,  and  sigh  responding  sigh, 
Through  all  the  fibres  of  the  social  heart. 
Observant,  sympathetic,  sound  of  head, 
CTpon  the  ocean  vast  of  human  thought, 
With  passion  rough  and  stormy,  venturing  out 
Even  as  the  living  billows  rolled,  he  threw 
His  numbers  over  them,  seized  as  they  were, 
And  to  perpetual  ages  left  them  fixed, 
To  each,  a  mirror  of  itself  displayed  ; 
Despair  for  ever  lowering  dark  on  Sin, 
And  Happiness  on  Virtue  smiling  fair. 

He  was  a  minister  of  fame,  and  gave 
To  whom  he  would  renown ;  nor  missed  himself— 
Although  despising  much  the  idiot  roar 
Of  popular  applause,  that  sudden,  oft, 
Unnaturally  turning,  whom  it  nursed 
Itself  devoured— the  lasting  fame,  the  praise 
Of  God  and  holy  men,  to  excellence  given. 
Yet  less  he  sought  his  own  renown,  than  wished 
To  have  the  eternal  images  of  truth 
34 


398  THE    COURSE    OP   TIMR. 

• 

And  beauty,  pictured  in  his  verse,  admired. 
Twas  these,  taking  immortal  shape  and  form 
Beneath  his  eye,  that  charmed  his  midnight  wstch. 
And  oft  his  soul  with  awful  transports  shook 
Of  happiness,  unfelt  by  other  men. 
This  was  that  spell,  that  sorcery,  which  bound 
The  poet  to  the  lyre,  and  would  not  let 
Him  go  ;  that  hidden  mystery  of  joy, 
Which  made  him  sing  in  spite  of  fortune's  worst, 
And  was,  at  once,  both  motive  and  reward. 

Nor  now  among  the  choral  harps,  in  this 
The  native  clime  of  song,  are  those  unknown, 
With  higher  note  ascending,  who,  below, 
In  holy  ardor,  aimed  at  lofty  strains. 
True  fame  is  never  lost :  many,  whose  names 
Were  honored  much  on  earth,  are  famous  here 
For  poetry,  and,  with  archangel  harps, 
Hold  no  unequal  rivalry  in  song  ; 
Leading  the  choirs  of  heaven,  in  numbers  high, 
In  numbers  ever  sweet  and  ever  new. 

Behold  them  yonder,  where  the  river  pure 
Flows  warbling  down  before  the  throne  of  God ; 
And,  shading  on  each  side,  the  tree  of  life 
Spreads  its  unfading  boxighs  ! — See  how  they  shina 
In  garments  white,  quaffing  deep  draughts  of  love, 
And  harping  on  their  harps,  new  harmonies 
Preparing  for  the  ear  of  God,  Most  High  ! 

But  why  should  I,  of  individual  worth, 
Of  individual  glory,  longer  sing  ? 
No  true  believer  was,  that  day,  obscure ; 
No  holy  soul  but  had  enough  of  joy  ; 
No  pious  wish  without  its  full  reward. 
Who  in  the  Father  and  the  Son  believed, 


BOOK    IX.  3QQ 

With  faith  that  wrought  by  lore  to  holy  deeds, 
And  purified  the  heart,  none  i,rembled  there, 
Nor  had  by  earthly  guise  his  rank  concealed  ; 
Whether,  unknown,  he  tilled  the  ground  remote, 
Observant  of  the  seasons,  and  adored 
God  in  the  promise,  yearly  verified, 
Of  seed-time,  harvest,  summer,  winter,  day 
And  night,  returning  duly  at  the  time 
Appointed ;  or,  on  the  shadowy  mountain  side, 
"Worshipped  at  dewy  eve,  watching  his  nocks ; 
Or,  trading,  saw  the  wonders  of  the  deep, 
And  as  the  needle  to  the  starry  Pole 
Turned  constantly,  so  he  his  heart  to  God  ; 
Or  else,  in  servitude  severe,  was  taught 
To  break  the  bonds  of  sin  ;  or,  begging,  learned 
To  trust  the  Providence  that  fed  the  raven, 
And  clothed  the  lily  with  her  annual  gown. 

Most  numerous,  indeed,  among  the  saved, 
And  many,  too,  not  least  illustrious,  shone 
The  men  who  had  no  name  on  earth.     Eclipsed 
By  lowly  circumstance,  they  lived  unknown, 
lake  stream  that  in  the  desert  warbles  clear, 
Still  nursing,  as  it  goes,  the  herb  and  flower, 
Though  never  seen  :  or  like  the  star,  retired 
In  solitudes  of  ether,  far  beyond 
All  sight,  not  of  essential  splendor  less, 
Though  shining  unobserved.     None  saw  their  pue 
Devotion,  none  their  tears,  their  faith,  and  love, 
Which  burned  within  them,  both  to  God  and  man,— 
None  saw  but  God.     He,  in  his  bottle,  all 
Their  tears  preserved,  and  every  holy  wish 
Wrote  in  his  book ;  and,  not  as  they  had  done, 
But  as  they  wished  with  all  their  heart  to  do, 
Arraved  them  now  in  gli  >ry,  and  displayed, — 


*00  THE   COURSE   OF  TIME. 

N  o  longer  hid  by  coarse,  uncourtly  garb, — 
In  lustre  equal  to  their  inward  worth. 

Man's  time  was  passed,  and  his  eternity 
Begun.     No  fear  remained  of  change.     The  youtli, 
Who,  in  the  glowing  morn  of  vigorous  life, 
High-reaching  after  great  religious  deeds, 
Was  suddenly  cut  off,  with  all  his  hopes 
In  sunny  bloom,  and  unaccomplished  left 
His  withered  aims, — saw  everlasting  days, 
Before  him,  dawning,  rise,  in  which  to  achieve 
All  glorious  things,  and  get  himself  the  name 
That  jealous  Death  too  soon  forbade  on  earth. 

Old  things  had  passed  away,  and  all  was  new  ; 
And  yet,  of  all  the  new-begun,  n,°ught  so 
Prodigious  difference  made,  in  the  affairs 
And  thoughts  of  every  man,  as  certainty. 
For  doubt,  all  doubt,  was  gone,  of  every  kind ; 
Doubt  that  ercwhile,  beneath  the  lowest  base 
Of  mortal  reasonings,  deepest  laid,  crept  in, 
And  made  the  strongest,  best  cemented  towers 
Of  human  workmanship,  so  weakly  shake, 
And  to  their  lofty  tops  so  waver  still, 
That  those  who  built  them,  feared  their  sudden  fall. 
But  doubt,  all  doubt,  was  passed  ;  and,  in  its  place, 
To  every  thought  that  in  the  heart  of  man 
Was  present,  now  had  come  an  absolute, 
Unquestionable  certainty,  which  gave 
To  each  decision  of  the  mind  immense 
Importance,  raising  to  its  proper  height 
The  sequent  tide  of  passion,  whether  joy 
Or  grief.     The  good  man  knew,  in  very  truth, 
That  he  was  saved  to  all  eternity, 
Arid  feared  no  more  ;  the  bad  had  proof  complete, 
That  he  was  damned  for  ever  ;  and  believed 


«OOK    IX.  401 

Entirely,  that  on  every  wicked  soul 

Anguish  should  come,  and  wrath,  and  utter  wo. 

Knowledge  was  much  increased,  but  wisdom  more 
The  film  of  Time,  that  still  before  the  sight 
Of  mortal  vision  danced,  and  led  the  best 
Astray,  pursuing  unsubstantial  dreams, 
Had  dropped  from  every  eye.     Men  saw  that  they 
Had  vexed  themselves  in  vain,  to  understand 
What  now  no  hope  to  understand  remained  ; 
That  they  had  often  counted  evil  good, 
And  good  for  ill ;  laughed  when  they  should  have 

wept, 

And  wept,  forlorn,  when  God  intended  mirth. 
But  what,  of  all  their  follies  passed,  surprised 
Them  most,  and  seemed  most  totally  insane 
And  unaccountable,  was  value  set 
On  objects  of  a  day,  was  serious  grief 
Or  joy  for  loss  or  gain  of  mortal  tilings. 
So  utterly  impossible  it  seemed, 
When  men  their  proper  interests  saw,  that  aught 
Of  terminable  kind,  that  aught,  which  e'er 
Could  die,  or  cease  to  be,  however  named, 
•Should  make  a  human  soul — a  legal  heir 
Of  everlasting  years — rejoice  or  weep, 
In  earnest  mood  ;  for  nothing  now  seemed  worth 
A  thought,  but  had  eternal  bearing  in't. 

Much  truth  had  been  assented  to  in  Time, 
Which  never,  till  this  day,  had  made  a  due 
Impression  on  the  heart.     Take  one  example. 
Early  from  heaven  it  was  revealed,  and  oft 
Repeated  in  the  world,  from  pulpits  preached, 
And  penned  and  read  in  holy  books,  that  God 
Respected  not  the  persons  of  mankind. 
Had  this  been  truly  credited  and  felt. 
34* 


402  THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 

The  king,  in  purple  robe,  had  owned,  indeed, 
The  beggar  for  his  brother ;  pride  of  rank 
And  office  thawed  into  paternal  love  ; 
Oppression  feared  the  day  of  equal  rights, 
Predicted  ;  covetous  extortion  kept 
In  mind  the  hour  of  reckoning,  soon  to  come  ; 
And  bribed  injustice  thought  of  being  judged, 
When  he  should  stand,  on  equal  foot,  beside 
The  man  he  wronged,  and  surely — nay,  'tis  true, 
Most  true,  beyond  all  whispering  of  doubt, 
That  he,  who  lifted  up  the  reeking  scourge, 
Dripping  with  gore  from  the  slave's  back,  before 
He  struck  again,  had  paused,  and  seriously 
Of  that  tribunal  thought,  where  God  himself 
Should  look  him  in  the  face,  and  ask  in  wrath, 
"Why   didst  thou  this?     Man!    was   he   not   thy 

brother, 

Bone  of  thy  bone,  and  flesh  and  blood  of  thine  ? " 
But,  ah  !  this  truth,  by  heaven  and  reason  taught, 
Was  never  fully  credited  on  earth. 
The  titled,  nattered,  lofty  men  of  power, 
Whose  wealth  bought  verdicts  of  applause  for  deeds 
Of  wickedness,  could  ne'er  believe  the  time 
Should  truly  come  when  judgment  should  proceed 
Impartially  against  them,  and  they,  too, 
Have  no  good  speaker  at  the  Judge's  ear, 
No  witnesses  to  bring  them  off  for  gold, 
No  power  to  turn  the  sentence  from  its  course ; 
And  they  of  low  estate,  who  saw  themselves, 
Day  after  day,  despised,  and  wronged,  and  mocked, 
Without  redress,  could  scarcely  think  the  day 
Should  e'er  arrive,  when  they,  in  truth,  should  stand 
On  perfect  level  with  the  potentates 
And  princes  of  the  earth,  and  have  their  cause 
Examined  fairly,  and  their  rights  allowed. 
But  now  this  truth  was  felt,  believed  and  felt. 


BOOK     IX. 


403 


That  men  were  really  of  a  common  stock, 
That  no  man  ever  had  been  more  than  man. 

Much  prophecy— revealed  by  holy  bards, 
Who  sung  the  will  of  heaven  by  Judah's  streams- 
Much  prophecy,  that  waited  long   the  scoff 
Of  lips  uncircumcised,  was  then  fulfilled  ; 
To  the  last  tittle  scrupulously  fulfilled. 
It  was  foretold  by  those  of  ancient  days, 
A  time  should  come,  when  wickedness  should  weep 
Abased ;  when  every  lofty  look  of  man 
Should  be  bowed  down,  and  all  his  haughtiness 
Made  low  ;  when  righteousness  alone  should  lift 
The  head  in  glory,  and  rejoice  at  heart ; 
When  many,  first  in  splendor  and  renown, 
Should  be  most  vile  ;  and  many,  lowest  once, 
And  last  in  Poverty's  obscurest  nook, 
Highest  and  first  in  honor,  should  be  seen, 
Exalted  ;  and  when  some,  when  all  the  good, 
Should  rise  to  glory  and  eternal  life  ; 
And  all  the  bad,  lamenting,  wake,  condemned 
To  shame,  contempt,  and  everlasting  grief. 

These  prophecies  had  tarried  long,  so  long 
That  many  wagged  the  head,  and,  taunting,  asked, 
«  When  shall  they  come  ? "  but  asked  no  more,  not 

mocked ; 

For  "he  reproach  of  prophecy  was  wiped 
Away,  and  every  word  of  God  found  true. 

And,  oh !  what  change  of  state,  what  change  01 

rank, 

In  that  assembly  everywhere  was  seen ! 
The  humble-hearted  laughed,  the  lofty  mourned, 
And  every  man,  according  to  his  works 
Wrought  in  the  body,  there  took  character. 


404  THE   COURSE   OF  TIME 

Thus  stood  they  mixed,  all  generations  stood  ! 
Of  all  mankind,  innumerable  throng  ! 
Great  harvest  of  the  grave  ! — waiting  the  will 
Of  heaven,  attentively,  and  silent  all, 
As  forest  spreading  out  beneath  the  calm 
Of  evening  skies,  when  even  the  single  leaf 
Is  heard  distinctly  rustle  down  and  fall ; 
So  silent  they,  when  from  above,  the  sound 
Of  rapid  wheels  approached,  and  suddenly 
In  heaven  appeared  a  host  of  angels  strong, 
With  chariots  and  with  steeds  of  burning  fire  : 
Cherub,  and  Seraph,  Thrones,  Dominions,  Powers, 
Bright  in  celestial  armor,  dazzling,  rode. 
And,  leading  in  the  front,  illustrious  shone 
Michael  and  Gabriel,  servants  long  approved 
In  high  commission, — girt  that  day  with  power, 
Which  naught  created,  man  or  devilj  might 
Resist.     Nor  waited,  gazing,  long  ;  but,  quick 
Descending,  silently  and  without  song, 
As  servants  bend  to  do  their  master's  work, 
To  middle  air  they  raised  the  human  race, 
Above  the  path  long  travelled  by  the  sun ; 
And  as  a  shepherd  from  the  sheep  divides 
The  goats  ;  or  husbandman,  with  reaping  bands, 
In  harvest,  separates  the  precious  wheat, 
Selected  from  the  tares  ;  so  did  they  part 
Mankind,  the  good  and  bad,  to  right  and  left, 
To  meet  no  more  ;  these  ne'er  again  to  smile, 
Nor  those  to  weep  ;  these  never  more  to  share 
Society  of  mercy  with  the  saints, 
Nor,  henceforth,  those  to  suffer  with  the  vile. 
Strange  parting!  not  for  hours,  nor  days,  nor  months, 
Nor  for  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  years  ; 
But  for  a  whole  eternity ! — though  fit, 
And  pleasant  to  the  righteous,  yet  to  all 
Strange,  and  most  strangely  felt !     The  sire,  to  right 


405 


Retiring,  saw  the  son — sprung  from  his  loins, 

Beloved  how  dearly  once  ;  but  who  forgot, 

Too  soon,  in  sin's  intoxicating  cup, 

The  father's  warnings  and  the  mother's  tears — 

Fall  to  the  left  among  the  reprobate  ; 

And  sons,  redeemed,  beheld  the  fathers,  whom 

They  loved  and  honored  once,  gathered  among 

The  wicked.     Brothers,  sisters,  kinsmen,  friends ; 

Husband  and  wife,  who  ate  at  the  same  board, 

And  under  the  same  roof,  united,  dwelt, 

From  youth  to  hoary  age,  bearing  the  chance 

And  change  of  Time  together,  parted  then 

For  evermore.     But  none,  whose  friendship  grew 

From  virtue's  pure  and  everlasting  root, 

Took  different  roads  ;  these,  knit  in  stricter  bonds 

Of  amity,  embracing,  saw  no  more 

Death,  with  his  scythe,  stand  by  ;  nor  heard  the  word, 

The  bitter  word,  which  closed  all  earthly  friendships, 

And  finished  every  feast  of  love — Farewell. 

To  all,  strange  parting  !  to  the  wicked,  sad 

And  terrible  !     New  horror  seized  them,  while 

They  saw  the  saints  withdrawing,  and  with  them 

All  hope  of  safety,  all  delay  of  wrath. 

Beneath  a  crown  of  rosy  light, — like  that 
Which  once,  in  Goshen,  on  the  flocks,  and  herds, 
And  dwellings,  smiled,  of  Jacob,  while  the  land 
Of  Nile  was  dark;  or  like  the  pillar  bright 
Of  sacred  fire,  that  stood  above  the  sons 
Of  Israel,  when  they  camped  at  midnight  by 
The  foot  of  Horeb,  or  the  desert  side 
Of  Sinai  ; — now,  the  righteous  took  their  place, 
AL1  took  their  place,  who  ever  wished  to  go 
To  heaven,  for  heaven's  own  sake.     Not  one  remained 
Among  the  accursed,  that  e'er  desired  with  all 
The  heart  to  be  redeemed,  that  ever  sought 


*06  THE   COURSE   OF  TIME. 

Submissively  to  do  the  will  of  God, 

How  o'er  it  crossed  his  own;  or  to  escape 

Hell,  for  aught  other  than  its  penal  fires. 

All  took  their  place,  rejoicing,  and  beheld, 

In  centre  of  the  crown  of  golden  beams 

That  canopied  them  o'er,  these  gracious  words, 

Blushing  with  tints  of  love  :  "Pear  not,  my  saint»»" 

To  other  sight  of  horrible  dismay, 
Jehovah's  ministers  the  wicked  drove, 
And  left  them  bound  immovable  in  chains 
Of  Justice.     O'er  their  heads  a  bowless  cloud 
Of  indignation  hung ;  a  cloud  it  was 
Of  thick  and  utter  darkness,  rolling,  like 
An  ocean,  tides  of  livid,  pitchy  flame ; 
With  thunders  charged,  and  lightnings  ruinous, 
And  red  with  forked  vengeance,  such  as  wounds 
The  soul ;  and  full  of  angry  shapes  of  wrath, 
And  eddies  whirling  with  tumultuous  fire, 
And  forms  of  terror  raving  to  and  fro, 
And  monsters  unimagincd  heretofore, 
By  guilty  men  in  dreams  before  their  death, 
From  horrid  to  more  horrid  changing  still, 
In  hideous  movement  through  that  stormy  gulf; 
And  evermore  the  Thunders,  murmuring,  spoke 
From  out  the  darkness,  uttering  loud  these  words, 
Which  every  guilty  conscience  echoed  back  : 
"  Ye  knew  your  duty,  but  ye  did  it  not " 
Dread  words!    that  barred  excuse,    and  threw  the 

weight 

Of  every  man's  perdition  on.  himself, 
Directly  home.    Dread  words  !  heard  then,  and  heard 
For  ever  through  the  wastes  of  Ereous. 
"  Ye  knew  your  duty,  but  ye  did  it  not !  " 
These  were  the  words  which  glowed  upon  the  sword 
Whose  wrath  burned  fearfully  behind  the  cursed, 


40  / 


As  they  were  driven  away  from  God  to  Tophet. 
"  Ye  knew  your  duty,  but  ye  did  it  not !  " 
These  are  the  words  to  which  the  harps  of  grief 
Are  strung ;  and,  to  the  chorus  of  the  damned, 
The  rocks  of  hell  repeat  them,  evermore  ; 
Loud  echoed  through  the  caverns  of  despair, 
And  poured  in  thunder  on  the  ear  of  Wo. 

Nor  ruined  men  alone,  beneath  that  cloud, 
Trembled.     There,  Satan  and  his  legions  stood, 
Satan,  the  first  and  eldest  sinner,— bound 
For  judgment.     He,  by  other  name,  hold  once 
Conspicuous  rank  in  heaven  among  the  sons 
Of  happiness,  rejoicing,  day  and  night. 
But  pride,  that  was  ashamed  ip  bow  to  God, 
Most  High,  his  bosom  filled  with  hate,  his  face 
Made  black  with  envy,  and  in  his  soul  begot 
Thoughts  guilty  of  rebellion  'gainst  the  throne 
Of  the  Eternal  Father  and  the  Son, — 
From  everlasting  built  on  righteousness. 

Ask  not  how  pride,  in  one  created  pure, 
Could  grow  ;  or  sin.  without  example  spring, 
Where  holiness  alone  was  sown  :  esteem't 
Enough,  that  he,  as  every  being  made 
By  God,  was  made  entirely  holy,  had 
The  will  of  God  before  him  set  for  law 
And  regulation  of  his  life,  and  power 
To  do  as  bid ;  but  was,  meantime,  left  free, 
To  prove  his  worth,  his  gratitude,  his  love  ; 
How  proved  besides  ?  for  how  could  service  done 
That  might  not  else  have  been  withheld,  evince 
The  will  to  serve,  which,  rather  than  the  deed, 
God  doth  require,  and  virtue  counts  alone  ? 
To  stand  or  fall,  to  do  or  leave  undone, 
Is  reason's   ofty  privilege,  denied 


408  THE    COURSE   OF   TIME. 

To  all  below,  by  instinct  bound  to  fate, 
Unmeriting,  alike,  reward  or  blame. 

Thus  free,  the  Devil  chose  to  disobey 
The  will  of  God,  and  was  thrown  out  from  heaven, 
And  with  him  all  his  bad  example  stained : 
Yet  not  to  utter  punishment  decreed, 
But  left  to  fill  the  measure  of  his  sin, 
In  tempting  and  seducing  man — too  soon, 
Too  easily  seduced  !     And,  from  the  day 
He  first  set  foot  on  earth, — of  rancor  full, 
And  pride,  and  hate,  and  malice,  and  revenge,— 
He  set  himself,  with  most  felonious  aim 
And  hellish  perseverance,  to  root  out 
All  good,  and  in  its  place  to  plant  all  ill ; 
To  rub  and  raze,  from  all  created  things, 
The  fair  and  holy  portraiture  divine, 
And  on  them  to  enstamp  his  features  grim, 
To  draw  all  creatures  off  from  loyalty 
To  their  Creator,  and  to  make  them  bow 
The  knee  to  him.     Nor  failed  of  great  success, 
As  populous  hell,  this  day,  can  testify. 
He  held,  indeed,  large  empire  in  the  world, 
Contending  proudly  with  the  King  of  heaven. 
To  him  temples  were  built,  and  sacrifice 
Of  costly  blood  upon  his  altars  flowed ; 
And — what  best  pleased  him,  for  in  show  he  seeinet 
Then  likest  God — whole  nations,  bowing,  fell 
Before  him,  worshipping,  and  from  his  lips 
Entreated  oracles,  which  he,  by  priests, 
For  many  were  his  priests  in  every  age, — 
Answered,  though  guessing  but  at  future  tilings, 
And  erring  oft,  yet  still  believed  ;  so  well 
His  ignorance,  in  ambiguous  phrase,  he  veiled. 

Nor  needs  it  wonder,  that  with  man  once  fallen, 
His  tempting  should  succeed.     Large  was  nis 


BOOK  IX. 


And  understanding  ;  though  impaired  by  sin,    • 
Still  large  ;  and  constant  practice,  day  and  night, 
In  cunning,  guile,  and  all  hypocrisy, 
From  age  to  age,  gave  him  experience  vast 
In  sin's  dark  tactics,  such  as  boyish  man, 
Unarmed  by  strength  divine,  could  ill  withstand. 
And  well  he  knew  his  weaker  side  ;  and  still, 
His  lures,  with  baits  that  pleased  the  senses,  busked 
To  his  impatient  passions  offering  terms 
Of  present  joy,  and  bribing  reason's  eye 
With  earthly  wealth,  and  honors  near  at  hand. 
Nor  failed  to  misadvise  his  future  hope 
And  faith,  by  false,  unkerneled  promises 
Of  heavens  of  sensual  gluttony  and  love, 
That  suited  best  their  grosser  appetites. 
Into  the  sinner's  heart,  who  lived  secure, 
And  feared  him  least,  he  entered  at  his  will. 
But  chief,  he  chose  his  residence  in  courts 
And  conclaves,  stirring  princes  up  to  acts 
Of  blood  and  tyranny  ;  and  moving  priests 
To  barter  truth,  and  swap  the  souls  of  men 
For  lusty  benefices,  and  address 
Of  lofty  sounding.     Nor  the  saints  elect, 
Who  walked  with  God,  in  virtue's  path  sublime, 
Did  he  not  sometimes  venture  to  molest  ; 
In  dreams  and  moments  of  unguarded  thought, 
Suggesting  guilty  doubts  and  fears,  that  God 
Would  disappoint  their  hope  ;  and  in  their  way 
Bestrewing  pleasures,  tongued  so  sweet,  and  so 
In  holy  garb  arrayed,  that  many  stooped, 
Believing  them  of  heavenly  sort,  and  fell  ; 
And  to  their  high  professions,  brought  disgrace 
And  scandal  ;  to  themselves,  thereafter,  long 
And  bitter  nights  of  sore  repentance,  vexed 
With  shame,  unwonted  sorrow,  and  remorse. 
35 


410  THE    COURSE   OP   TIME. 

And  more  they  should  have  fallen,  and  more  have 

wept, 

Had  not  their  guardian  angels,  who,  by  God 
Commissioned,  stood  beside  them  in  the  hour 
Of  danger,  whether  craft,  or  fierce  attack, 
To  Satan's  deepest  skill  opposing  skill 
More  deep,  and  to  his  strongest  arm,  an  arm 
More   strong, — upborne   them   in   their   hands,    and 

filled 

Their  souls  with  all  discernment,  quick,  to  pierce 
Ills  stratagems  and  fairest  shoAVS  of  sin. 

Now,  like  a  roaring  lion,  up  and  down 
The  world,  destroying,  though  unseen,  he  raged  ; 
And  now,  retiring  back  to  Tartarus, 
"  Far  back,  beneath  the  thick  of  guiltiest  dark, 
Where  night  ne'er  heard  of  day,  in  council  grim, 
He  sat  with  ministers  whose  thoughts  were  damned, 
And  there  such  plans  devised,  as,  had  not  God 
Checked  and  restrained,  had  added  earth  entire 
To  hell,  and  uninhabited  left  heaven, 
Jehovah  unadored.     Nor  unsevere, 
Even  then,  his  punishment  deserved.     The  Worm 
That  never  dies,  coiled  in  his  bosom,  gnawed 
Perpetually  ;  sin  after  sin  brought  pang 
Succeeding  pang ;  and,  now  and  then,  the  bolts 
Of  Zion's  King,  vindictive,  smote  his  soul 
With  fiery  wo  to  blast  his  proud  designs ; 
And  gave  him  earnest  of  the  wrath  to  come. 
And  chief,  when,  on  the  cross,  Messiah  said, 
"  'Tis  finished,"  did  the  edge  of  vengeance  smite 
Him  through,  and  all  his  gloomy  legions  touch 
With  new  despair.     But  yet,  to  be  the  first 
In  mischief,  to  have  armies  at  his  calL 
To  hold  dispute  with  God,  in  days  of  Time, 
flis  pride  and  malice  fed,  and  bore  him  up. 


BOOK   IX.  41 1 

Above  the  worst  of  ruin.     Still,  to  plan 

And  act  great  deeds,  though  wicked,  brought  at  least 

The  recompense  which  nature  hath  attached 

To  all  activity,  and  aim  pursued 

With  perseverance,  good  or  bad  ;  for  as, 

By  nature's  laws,  immutable  and  just, 

Enjoyment  stops  where  indolence  begins  ; 

And  purposeless,  to-morrow  borrowing  sloth, 

Itself,  heaps  on  its  shoulders  loads  of  wo, 

Too  heavy  to  be  borne  ;  so  industry — 

To  mediate,  to  plan,  resolve,  perform, 

Which  in  itself  is  good — as  surely  brings 

Reward  of  good,  no  matter  what  be  done  : 

And  such  reward  the  Devil  had,  as  long 

As  the  decrees  eternal  gave  him  space 

To  work.     But  now,  all  action  ceased  ;  his  hope 

Of  doing  evil  perished  quite  ;  his  pride, 

His  courage,  failed  him  ;  and  beneath  that  cloud 

Which  hung  its  central  terrors  o'er  his  head, 

With  all  his  angels,  he,  for  sentence,  stood, 

And  rolled  his  eyes  around,  that  uttered  guilt 

And  wo,  in  horrible  perfection  joined. 

As  he  had  been  the  chief  and  leader,  long, 

Of  the  apostate  crew  that  warred  with  God 

And  holiness ;  so  now,  among  the  bad, 

Lowest,  and  most  forlorn,  and  trembling  most, 

With  all  iniquity  deformed  and  foul, 

With  all  perdition  ruinous  and  dark, 

He  stood, — example  awful  of  the  wrath 

Of  God  !  and  mark,  to  which  all  sin  must  fall ! — 

And  made,  on  every  side,  so  black  a  hell, 

That  spirits,  used  to  night  and  misery, 

To  distance  drew,  and  looked  another  way ; 

And  from  their  golden  cloud,  far  off,  the  saints 

Saw  round  him  darkness  grow  more  dark,  and  heard 

The  impatient  thunderbolts,  with  deadliest  crash 


412  THE    COUKSE   OF   TIME. 

And  frequentest,  break  o'er  his  head, — the  sign 
That  Satan,  there,  the  vilest  sinner,  stood. 

Ah  me  !  what  eyes  were  there  beneath  that 

cloud  ! 

Eyes  of  despair,  final  and  certain  !  eyes 
That  looked,  and  looked,  and  saw,  where'er  they 

looked, 
Interminable  darkness  !  utter  wo  ! 

'Twas  pitiful  to  see  the  early  flower 
Nipped  by  the  unfeeling  frost,  just  when  it  rose, 
Lovely  in  youth,  and  put  its  beauties  on. 
'Twas  pitiful  to  see  the  hopes  of  all 
The  year,  the  yellow  harvest,  made  a  heap, 
By  rains  of  judgment ;  or  by  torrents  swept 
With  flocks  and  cattle,  down  the  raging  flood ; 
Or  scattered  by  the  winnowing  winds,  that  bore 
Upon  their  angry  wings,  the  wrath  of  heaven. 
Sad  was  the  field,  where,  yesterday,  was  heard 
The  roar  of  war  ;  and  sad  the  sight  of  maid, 
Of  mother,  widow,  sister,  daughter,  wife, 
Stooping  and  weeping  over  senseless,  cold, 
Defaced,  and  mangled  lumps  of  breathless  earth, 
Which  had  been  husbands,  fatkers,  brothers,  sons 
And  lovers,  when  that  morning's  sun  arose. 
'Twas  sad  to  see  the  wonted  seat  of  friend 
Removed  by  death  ;  and  sad  to  visit  scenes, 
When  old,  where,  in  the  smiling  morn  of  life, 
Lived  many,  who  both  knew  and  loved  us  much, 
And  they  all  gone,  dead,  or  dispersed  abroad  ; 
And  stranger  faces  seen  among  their  hills. 
'Twas  sad  to  see  the  little  orphan  babe 
Weeping  and  sobbing  on  its  mother's  grave. 
'Twas  pitiful  to  see  an  old,  forlorn, 
Decrepit,  withered  wretch,  unhoused,  unclad, 


413 


Starving  to  death,  with  poverty  and  cold. 
Twas  pitiful  to  see  a  blooming  bride, 
That  promise  gave  of  many  a  happy  year, 
Touched  by  decay,  turn  pale,  and  waste,  and  die. 
'Twas  pitiful  to  hear  the  murderous  thrust 
Of  ruffian's  blade  that  sought  the  life  entire.        ^ 
'Twas  sad  to  hear  the  blood  come  gurgling  forth 
From  out  the  throat  of  the  wild  suicide. 
Sad  was  the  sight  of  widowed,  childless  age 
Weeping. — I  saw  it  once.     Wrinkled  with  time, 
And  hoary  with  the  dust  of  years,  an  old 
And  worthy  man  came  to  his  humble  roof, 
Tottering  and  slow,  and  on  the  threshold  stood. 
No  foot,  no  voice,  was  heard  within.     None  came 
To  meet  him,  where  he  had  oft  met  a  wife, 
And  sons,  and  daughters,  glad  at  his  return  ; 
None  came  to  meet  him  ;  for  that  day  had  seen 
The  old  man  lay,  within  the  narrow  house, 
The  last  of  all  his  family  ;  and  now 
He  stood  in  solitude,  in  solitude 
Wide  as  the  world ;  for  all,  that  made  to  him 
Society,  had  fled  beyond  its  bound. 
Wherever  strayed  his  aimless  eye,  there  lay 
The  wreck  of  some  fond  hope,  that  touched  his  soul 
With  bitter  thoughts,  and  told  him  all  was  passed. 
His  lonely  cot  was  silent,  and  he  looked 
As  if  he  could  not  enter.     On  his  staff, 
Bending,  he  leaned  ;  and  from  his  weary  eye, 
Distressing  sight !  a  single  tear-drop  wept. 
None  followed,  for  the  fount  of  tears  was  dry. 
Alone  and  last,  it  fell  from  wrinkle  down 
To  wrinkle,  till  itplost  itself,  drunk  by 
The  withered  cheek,  on  which  again  no  smile 
Should  come,  or  drop  of  tenderness  be  seen. 
This  sight  was  very  pitiful ;  but  one 
Was  sadder  still,  the  saddest  seen  in  Time. 
35* 


411 


THE   COURSE   OF   TIME. 


A  man,  to-day,  the  glory  of  his  kind, 
In  reason  clear,  in  understanding  large, 
In  judgment  sound,  in  fancy  quick,  in  hope 
Abundant,  and  in  promise,  like  a  field 
Well  cultured,  and  refreshed  with  dews  from  God ; 
^To-morrow,  chained,  and  raving  mad,  and  whipped 
By  servile  hands ;  sitting  on  dismal  straw, 
And  gnashing  with  his  teeth  against  the  chain, 
The  iron  chain,  that  bound  him  hand  and  foot ; 
And  trying  whiles  to  send  his  glaring  eye 
Beyond  the  wide  circumference  of  his  wo ; 
Or,  humbling  more,  more  miserable  still, 
Giving  an  idiot  laugh  that  served  to  show 
The  blasted  scenery  of  his  horrid  face ; 
Calling  the  straw  his  sceptre,  and  the  stone, 
On  which  he,  pinioned,  sat,  his  royal  throne. 
Poor,  poor,  poor  man  !  fallen  far  below  the  brute  ! 
His  reason  strove  in  vain  to  find  her  way, 
Lost  in  the  stormy  desert  of  his  brain  ; 
And,  being  active  still,  she  wrought  all  strange, 
Fantastic,  execrable,  monstrous  things. 

All  these  were  sad,  and  thousands  more,  that  sleep 
Forgotten  beneath  the  funeral  pall  of  Time; 
And  bards,  as  well  became,  bewailed  them  much, 
With  doleful  instruments  of  weeping  song. 
But  what  were  these  ?   What  might  be  worse  had  in' t, 
However  small,  some  grains  of  happiness  ; 
And  man  ne'er  drank  a  cup  of  earthly  sort, 
That  might  not  held  another  drop  of  gall ; 
Or,  in  his  deepest  sorrow,  laid  his  head 
Upon  a  pillow,  set  so  close  with  thorns, 
That  might  not  held  another  prickle  still. 
Accordingly,  the  saddest  human  look 
Had  hope  in't ;  faint,  indeed,  but  still  'twas  hope. 
But  why  excuse  the  misery  of  earth  ? 


BOOK.    IX.  415 

Say  it  was  dismal,  cold,  and  dark,  and  deep, 
Beyond  the  utterance  of  strongest  words  ; 
But  say  that  none  remembered  it,  who  saw 
The  eye  of  beings  damned  for  evermore, 
Rolling,  and  rolling,  rolling  still  in  vain, 
To  find  some  ray,  to  see  beyond  the  gulf 
Of  an  unavenued,  fierce,  fiery,  hot, 
Interminable,  dark  Futurity  ! 
And  rolling  still,  and  rolling  still  in  vain  ! 

Thus  stood  the  reprobate  beneath  the  shade 
Of  terror,  and  beneath  the  crown  of  love, 
The  good ;  and  there  was  silence  in  the  vault 
Of  heaven ;  and,  as  they  stood  and  listened,  they  heard 
Afar  to  left,  among  the  utter  dark, 
Hell  rolling  o'er  his  waves  of  burning  fire, 
And  thundering  through  his  caverns,  empty  then, 
As  if  he  preparation  made,  to  act 
The  final  vengeance  of  the  fiery  Lamb. 
And  there  was  heard,  coming  from  out  the  Pit, 
The  hollow  wailing  of  Eternal  Death, 
And  horrid  cry  of  the  Undying  Worm. 

The  wicked  paler  turned,  and  scarce  the  good 
Their  color  kept ;  but  were  not  long  dismayed. 
That  moment,  in  the  heavens,  how  wondrous  fair  1 
The  angel  Mercy  stood,  and,  on  the  bad 
Turning  his  back,  over  the  ransomed  threw 
His  bow,  bedropped  with  imagery  of  love, 
And  promises  on  which  their  faith  reclined. 
Throughout,  deep,  breathless  silence  reigned  again, 
And  on  the  circuit  of  the  upper  spheres, 
A  glorious  seraph  stood,  and  cried  aloud, 
That  every  ear  of  man  and  devil  heard, 
"  Him  that  is  filthy,  let  be  filthy  still ; 
Him  that  is  holy,  let  be  holy  still." 


THE   COURSE   OF   TIMiS. 

And,  suddenly,  another  squadron  bright, 

Of  high,  archangel  glory,  stooping,  brought 

A  marvellous  bow, — one  base  upon  the  Cross, 

The  other  on  the  shoulder  of  the  Bear, 

They  placed, — from   south  to   north,  spanning  the 

heavens, 

And  on  each  hand  dividing  good  and  bad, — 
"Who  read,  on  either  side,  these  burning  words, 
Which  ran  along  the  arch  in  living  fire, 
And  wanted  not  to  be  believed  in  full : 
"  As  ye  hfvve  sown,  so  shall  ye  reap  this  daj  " 


TMB 


COURSE     OF     TIME. 

BOOK  X. 


ANALYSIS  OF  BOOK  X 


In  »lie  beginning  the  Author  invokes  the  presence  and  aid  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  while  he  interprets  the  notes  of  the  ancient  Bard 
describing  the  Day  of  Judgment. 

The  Bard  proceeds  Soon  millions  infinite  of  holy  spirits  are 
heard  and  seen  gathering  before  the  Eternal  Throne,  from 
heaven  and  from  countless  wor'.ds  around.  Silence  ensues, 
and  from  a  radiant  cloud  the  voice  of  God  conies  forth,  an 
nounces  to  the  assembled  millions  the  object  of  calling  them 
to  his  presence,  and  states  mat  the  destiny  of  Man  is  con 
cluded,  the  Day  of  Retribution  come,  and  the  generations  of 
Earth  collected  at  the  place  of  Judgment.  The  voice  then  ad 
dresses  the  Son  Messiah,  assigning  to  him  the  covenanted  of 
fice  of  Judge.  The  Son,  taking  the  Book  of  God's  Remem 
brance,  the  Crowns  of  life,  and  the  Sword  of  justice,  and  at 
tended  by  the  summoned  millions,  move  forth  in  glory,  becomes 
visible  to  the  assembled  sons  of  men,  and  ascends  the  Throne 
between  the  good  and  bad.  An  angel  unfolds  the  book.  In 
awful  silence,  the  Judge  wails,  while  every  conscience  attests 
the  record.  He  rises  to  pronounce  the  sentence.  No  creature 
breathes;  the  spheres  and  stars,  with  every  particle  of  mat 
ter,  stand  still. — Those  trembling  on  the  left  hear  a  dread  de 
cree  of  burning  words;  the  Sword  of  justice  gleams  and 
plunges  in  their  midst;  they  sink  in  utter  darkness,  returning 
one  groan  of  boundless  wo,  as  Hell  closes  round,  and  the  Un 
dying  Worm  and  Second  Death  begin  their  endless  repast.— 
The  last  Fire  then  consumes  the  Earth.— Finally,  the  right 
eous  hear  a  joyous  welcome,  receive  their  crowns,  and  ascend 
with  the  Judge,  singing  with  the  angels,  "  Glory  10  God  and 
to  the  Lamb  ' 


THE 

COURSE     OF     TIME. 
BOOK    X. 

GOD  of  my  fathers  !  holy,  just,  and  good  ! 
My  God  !  my  Father  !  my  unfailing  Hope  ! 
Jehovah  !  let  the  incense  of  my  praise, 
Accepted,  burn  before  thy  mercy-seat, 
And  in  thy  presence  burn,  both  day  and  night. 
Maker  !  Preserver  !  my  Redeemer  !  God  ! 
Whom  have  I  in  the  heavens  but  Thee  alone  ? 
On  earth,  but  Thee,  whom  should  I  praise,  whon 

love? 

For  Thou  hast  brought  me  hitherto,  upheld 
By  thy  omnipotence  ;  and  from  thy  grace, 
Unbought,  unmerited,  though  not  unsought— 
The  wells  of  thy  salvation,  hast  refreshed 
My  spirit,  watering  it,  at  morn  and  even  ; 
And,  by  thy  Spirit,  which  thou  freely  givest 
To  whom  thou  wilt,  hast  led  my  venturous  song, 
Over  the  vale  and  mountain  tract,  the  light 
And  shade  of  man  ;  into  the  burning  deep 
Descending  now,  and  now  circling  the  mount, 
Where  highest  sits  Divinity  enthroned ; 
Rolling  along  the  tide  of  fluent  thought, 
The  tide  of  moral,  natural,  divine  ; 
Gazing  on  past  and  present,  and  again, 
On  rapid  pinion  borne,  outstripping  Time 
In  long  excursion,  wandering  through  the  groves 


- 


420  THE    COURSE   OP   TIME. 

Unfading,  and  the  endless  avenues, 
That  shade  the  landscape  of  Eternity ; 
And  talking  there  with  holy  angels  met, 
And  future  men,  in  glorious  vision  seen  ! 
Nor  unrewarded  have  I  watched  at  night, 
And  heard  the  drowsy  sound  of  neighboring  sleep. 
New  thought,  new  imagery,  new  scenes  of  bliss 
And  glory,  unrehearsed  by  mortal  tongue, 
"Which,  unrevealed,  I  trembling,  turned  and  left, 
Bursting  at  once  upon  my  ravished  eye, — 
With  joy  unspeakable  have  filled  my  soul, 
And  made  my  cup  run  over  with  delight : 
Though  in  my  face  the  blasts  of  adverse  winds, 
While  boldly  circumnavigating  man, 
Winds  seeming  adverse,  though  perhaps  not  so, 
Have  beat  severely ;  disregarded  beat, 
When  I,  behind  me,  heard  the  voice  of  God, 
And  his  propitious  Spirit  say,  Fear  not ! 


God  of  my  fathers  !  ever  present  God  ! 
This  offering,  more,  inspire,  sustain,  accept ; 
Highest,  if  numbers  answer  to  the  theme  ; 
Best  answering,  if  thy  Spirit  dictate  most. 
Jehovah  !  breathe  upon  my  soul ;  my  heart 
Enlarge ;  my  faith  increase ;  increase  my  hope  ; 
My  thoughts  exalt ;  my  fancy  sanctify, 
And  all  my  passions,  that  I  near  thy  throne 
May  venture,  unreproved  ;  and  sing  the  day, 
Which  none  unholy  ought  to  name,  the  Day 
Of  Judgment !  greatest  day,  passed  or  to  come  ! 
Day  !  which, — deny  me  what  thou  wilt,  deny 
Me  home,  or  friend,  or  honorable  name, 
Thy  mercy  grant,  I  thoroughly  prepared, 
WTith  comely  garment  of  redeeming  love, 
May  meet,  and  have  my  Judge  for  Advocate. 


BOOK   X.  421 

Come,  Gracious  Influence,  Breath  of  the  Lord, 
And  touch  me  trembling,  as  thou  touched  the  man, 
Greatly  beloved,  when  he  in  vision  saw, 
By  Ulai's  stream,  the  Ancient  sit ;  and  talked 
With  Gabriel,  to  his  prayer  swiftly  sent, 
At  evening  sacrifice.     Hold  my  right  hand, 
Almighty  !  hear  me,  for  I  ask  through  Him, 
Whom  thou  hast  heard,  whom  thou  wilt  always  hear 
Thy  Son,  our  interceding  Great  High  Priest ! 
Ileveal  the  future,  let  the  years  to  come 
Pass  by,  and  open  my  ear  to  hear  the  harp, 
The  prophet  harp,  whose  wisdom  I  repeat,. 
Interpreting  the  voice  of  distant  song  ; — 
Which  thus  again  resumes  the  lofty  verse, 
Loftiest,  if  I  interpret  faithfully 
The  holy  numbers  which  my  spirit  hears. 

Thus  came  the  day,  the  Harp  again  began, 
The  day  that  many  thought  should  never  come, 
That  all  the  wicked  wished  should  never  come, 
That  all  the  righteous  had  expected  long  ; 
Day  greatly  feared,  and  yet  too  little  feared, 
By  him  who  feared  it  most ;  day  laughed  at  much 
By  the  profane,  the  trembling  day  of  all 
Wlio  laughed ;     day  when  all  shadows  passed,   all 

dreams ; 

When  substance,  when  reality  commenced ; 
Last  day  of  lying,  final  day  of  all 
Deceit,  all  knavery,  all  quackish  phrase  ; 
Ender  of  all  disputing,  of  all  mirth 
Ungodly,  of  all  loud  and  boasting  speech ; 
Judge  of  all  judgments,  Judge  of  every  judge, 
Adjuster  of  all  causes,  rights  and  wrongs ; 
Day  oft  appealed  to,  and  appealed  to  oft 
By  those  who  saw  its  dawn  with  saddest  heart ; 
Day  mqst  magnificent  in  Fancy's  range. 
36 


422  THE   COURSE   OF  TIME. 

Whence  she  returned,  confounded,  trembling,  pale, 

With  overmuch  of  glory  faint  and  blind  ; 

Day  most  important  held,  prepared  for  most, 

By  every  rational,  wise,  and  holy  man ; 

Day  of  eternal  gain,  for  worldly  loss ; 

Day  of  eternal  loss  for  worldly  gain ; 

Great  day  of  terror,  vengeance,  wo,  despair; 

Revealer  of  all  secrets,  thoughts,  desires ; 

Rein -trying,  heart-investigating  day, 

That  stood  between  Eternity  and  Time, 

Reviewed  all  past,  determined  all  to  come, 

And  bound  all  destinies  for  evermore ; 

Believing  day  of  unbelief;  great  day, 

That  set  in  proper  light  the  affairs  of  earth, 

And  justified  the  Government  Divine ; 

Great  day ! — what  can  we  more  r    what  should  we 

more  ? 

Great  triumph  day  of  God's  incarnate  Son ! 
Great  day  of  glory  to  the  Almighty  God  ! 
Day  !  whence  the  everlasting  years  begin 
Their  date,  new  era  in  eternity, 
And  oft  referred  to  in  the  song  of  heaven  ! 

Thus  stood  the  apostate,  thus  the  ransomed  stood, 
Those  held  by  justice  fast,  and  these  by  love, 
Reading  the  fiery  scutcheonry,  that  blazed 
On  high,  upon  the  great  celestial  bow  : 
"  As  ye  have  sown,  so  shall  ye  reap  this  day." 
All  read,  all  understood,  and  all  believed, 
Convinced  of  judgment,  righteousness,  and  sin. 

Meantime  the  universe  throughout  was  still. 
The  cope,  above  and  round  about,  was  calm  ; 
And  motionless,  beneath  them,  lay  the  Earth, 
Silent  and  sad,  as  one  that  sentence  waits, 
For  flagrant  crime; — when  suddenly  was  heard. 


423 


Behind  the  azure  vaulting  of  the  sky, 

Above,  and  fai  remote  from  reach  of  sight, 

The  sound  of  jrumpets,  and  the  sound  of  crowds, 

And  prancing  steeds,  and  rapid  chariot  wheels, 

That  from  four  quarters  rolled,  and  seemed  in  haste, 

Assembling  at  some  place  of  rendezvous  ; 

And  so  they  seemed  to  roll,  with  furious  speed, 

As  if  none  meant  to  be  behind  the  first. 

Nor  seemed  alone ;  that  day,  the  golden  trump, 

AVhose  voice,  from  centre  to  circumference 

Of*  all  created  things,  is  heard  distinct, 

God  had  bid  Michael  sound,  to  summon  all 

The  hosts  of  bliss  to  presence  of  their  King ; 

And,  all  the  morning,  millions  infinite, 

That  millions  governed  each,  Dominions,  Powers, 

Thrones,  Principalities,  with  all  their  hosts, 

Had  been  arriving  near  the  capital, 

And  royal  city,  New  Jerusalem, 

From  heaven's  remotest  bounds.    Nor  yet  from  heaven 

Alone  came  they,  that  day.     The  worlds  around, 

Or  neighboring  nearest  on  the  verge  of  night, 

Emptied,  sent  forth  their  whole  inhabitants. 

All  tribes  of  being  came,  of  every  name, 

From  every  coast,  filling  Jehovah's  courts. 

From  morn  till  mid-day,  in  the  squadrons  poured 

Immense,  along  the  bright  celestial  roads. 

Swiftly  they  rode,  for  love  unspeakable, 

To  God,  and  to  Messiah,  Prince  of  Peace, 

Drew  them,  and  made  obedience  haste  to  be 

Approved.     And  now,  before  the  Eternal  Throne, — 

Brighter,  that  day,  than  when  the  Son  prepared 

To  overthrow  the  seraphim  rebelled, — 

And  circling  round  the  mount  of  Deity, 

Jpon  the  sea  of  glass  all  round  about, 

And  down  the  borders  of  the  stream  of  life, 

And  over  all  the  plains  of  Paradise, 


424  THE    COURSE   OF   TIME. 

For  many  a  league  of  heavenly  measurement,— 
Assembled,  stood  the  immortal  multitudes, 
Millions,  above  all  number  infinite, 
The  nations  of  the  blessed.     Distinguished  each, 
By  chief  of  goodly  stature  blazing  far ; 
By  various  garb,  and  flag  of  various  hue 
Streaming  through  heaven  from  standard  lifted  high— 
The  arms  and  imagery  of  thousand  worlds. 
Distinguished  each,  but  all  arrayed  complete, 
In  armor  bright,  of  helmet,  shield,  and  sword; 
And  mounted  all  in  chariots  of  fire. 
A  military  throng,  blent,  not  confused ; 
As  soldiers  on  some  day  of  great  review 
Burning  in  splendor  of  refulgent  gold, 
And  ornament,  on  purpose,  long  devised 
For  this  expected  day.     Distinguished  each, 
But  all  accoutred  as  became  their  Lord, 
And  high  occasion ;  all  in  holiness, 
The  livery  of  the  soldiery  of  God, 
Vested ;  and  shining  all  with  perfect  bliss, 
The  wages  that  his  faithful  servants  win. 

Thus  stood  they  numberless  around  the  mount 
Of  presence ;  and,  adoring,  waited,  hushed 
In  deepest  silence,  for  the  voice  of  God. 
That  moment,  all  the  Sacred  Hill  on  high 
Burned,  terrible  with  glory,  and,  behind 
The  uncreated  lustre,  hid  the  Lamb, 
Invisible  ;  when,  from  the  radiant  cloud, 
This  voice,  addressing  all  the  hosts  of  heaven, 
Proceeded,  not  in  words  as  we  converse, 
Each  with  his  fellow,  but  in  language  such 
As  God  doth  use,  imparting,  without  phrase 
Successive,  what,  in  speech  of  creatures,  seems 
Long  narrative,  though  long,  yet  losing  much 
In  feeble  symbols  of  the  thought  Divine. 


BOOK    X. 


425 


M'y  servants  long  approved,  my  faithful  sons, 
Angels  of  glory,  Thrones,  Dominions,  Powers, 
Well  pleased,  this  morning,  I  have  seen  the  speed 
Of  your  obedience,  gathering  round  my  throne, 
In  order  due,  and  well-becoming  garb  ; 
Illustrious,  as  I  see,  beyond  your  wont, 
As  was  my  wish,  to  glorify  this  day : 
And  now,  what  your  assembling  means,  attend. 

This  day  concludes  the  destiny  of  man 
The  hour  appointed  from  eternity, 
To  judge  the  earth,  in  righteousness,  is  come ; 
To  end  the  war  of  Sin,  that  long  has  fought, 
Permitted,  against  the  sword  of  Holiness  ; 
To  give  to  men  and  devils,  as  their  works, 
Recorded  in  my  all-remembering  book, 
I  find  ;  good  to  the  good,  and  great  reward 
Of  everlasting  honor,  joy,  and  peace, 
Before  my  presence  here  for  evermore  ; 
And  to  the  evil,  as  their  sins  provoke, 
Eternal  recompense  of  shame  and  wo, 
Cast  out  beyond  the  bounds  of  light  and  love. 

Long  have  I  stood,  as  ye,  my  sons,  well  know 
Between  the  cherubim,  and  stretched  my  arms 
Of  mercy  out,  inviting  all  to  come 
To  me  and  live  ;  my  bowels  long  have  moved 
With  great  compassion  ;  and  my  justice  passed 
Trangression  by,  and  not  imputed  sin. 
Long  here,  upon  my  everlasting  throne, 
I  have  beheld  my  love  and  mercy  scorned  ; 
Have  seen  my  laws  despised,  my  name  blasphemed, 
My  providence  accused,  my  gracious  plans 
Opposed  ;  and  long,  too  long,  have  I  beheld 
The  wicked  triumph,  and  my  saints  reproached 
Maliciously,  while  on  my  altars  lie, 


426  THE    COU11SE   Ol'   TEME. 

Unanswered  still,  their  prayers  and  their  tears, 

That  seek  my  coming,  wearied  with  delay ; 

And  long,  Disorder  in  my  moral  reign 

Has  walked  rebelliously,  disturbed  the  peace 

Of  my  eternal  government,  and  wrought 

Confusion,  spreading  far  and  wide,  among 

My  works  inferior,  which  groan  to  be 

Released.     Nor  long  shall  groan.     The  hour  of  grace^ 

The  final  hour  of  grace,  is  fully  passed ; 

The  time  accepted  for  repentance,  faith, 

And  pardon,  is  irrevocably  passed  ; 

And  Justice,  unaccompanied,  as  wont, 

With  Mercy,  now  goes  forth,  to  give  to  all 

According  to  their  deeds.     Justice  alone, — 

For  why  should  Mercy  any  more  be  joined  ? 

What  hath  not  mercy,  mixed  with  judgment,  done, 

That  mercy,  mixed  with  judgment  and  reproof, 

Could  do  ?     Did  I  not  revelation  make, 

Plainly  and  clearly,  of  my  will  entire  ? 

Before  them  set  my  holy  law,  and  gave 

Them  knowledge,  wisdom,  prowess  to  obey, 

And  win,  by  self- wrought  works,  eternal  life  ? 

Rebelled,  did  I  not  send  them  terms  of  peace, 

Which,  not  my  justice,  but  my  mercy  asked?— 

Terms,  costly  to  my  well- beloved  Son ; 

To  them,  gratuitous,  exacting  faith 

Alone  for  pardon,  works  evincing  faith  ? 

Have  I  not  early  risen,  and  sent  my  seers, 

Prophets,  apostles,  teachers,  ministers, 

With  signs  and  wonders,  working  in  my  name  ? 

Have  I  not  still,  from  age  to  age,  raised  up, 

As  I  saw  needful,  great,  religious  men, 

Gifted  by  me  with  large  capacity, 

And  by  my  arm  omnipotent  upheld, 

To  pour  the  numbers  of  my  mercy  forth, 

And  roll  my  judgments  on  the  ear  of  man? 


427 


And  lastly,  when  the  promised  hour  was  come, — 

What  more  could  most  abundant  mercy  do  ? — 

Did  I  not  send  Immanuel  forth,  my  Son, 

Only  begotten,  to  purchase,  by  his  blood, 

As  many  as  believed  upon  his  name  ? 

Did  he  not  die  to  give  repentance,  such 

As  I  accept,  and  pardon  of  all  sins  ? 

Has  he  not  taught,  beseeched,  and  shed  abroad 

The  Spirit  uncoiirined,  and  given  at  times 

Example  fierce  of  wrath  and  judgment,  poured 

Vindictively  on  nations  guilty  long  ? 

What  means  of  reformation,  that  my  Son 

Has  left  behind,  untried  r  what  plainer  words, 

What  arguments  more  strong,  as  yet  remain  r 

Did  he  not  tell  them,  with  his  lips  of  truth, 

The  righteous  should  be  saved,  the  wicked  damned  r 

And  has  he  not,  awake  both  day  and  night, 

Here  interceded  with  prevailing  voice, 

At  my  right  hand,  pleading  his  precious  blood, 

Which  magnified  my  holy  law,  and  bought 

For  all  who  wished,  perpetual  righteousness ! 

And  have  not  you,  my  faithful  servants,  all 

Been  frequent  forth,  obedient  to  my  will, 

With  messages  of  mercy  and  of  love, 

Administering  my  gifts  to  sinful  man  ? 

And  have  not  all  my  mercy,  all  my  love, 

Been  sealed  and  stamped  with  signature  of  heaven? 

By  proof  of  wonders,  miracles,  and  signs 

Attested,  and  attested  more  by  truth 

Divine,  inherent  in  the  tidings  sent  ? 

This  day  declares  the  consequence  of  all. 

Some  have  believed,  are  sanctified,  <.nd  saved, 

Prepared  for  dwelling  in  this  holy  p*ace, 

In  these  their  mansions,  built  before  my  face ; 

And  now,  beneath  a  crown  of  golden  light, 

Beyond  our  wall,  at  place  of  judgment,  they, 


i28  THE    COURSE   OF  TIME. 

Expecting,  wait  the  promised,  due  reward. 
The  others  stand  with  Satan,  bound  in  chains, 
The  others,  who  refused  to  be  redeemed  : 
They  stand,  unsanctified,  unpardoned,  sad, 
Waiting  the  sentence  that  shall  fix  their  wo. 
The  others,  who  refused  to  be  redeemed  ; 
For  all  had  grace  sufficient  to  believe, 
All  who  my  gospel  heard ;  and  none  who  heard 
It  not,  shall  by  its  law,  this  day,  be  tried. 
Necessity  of  sinning,  my  decrees 
Imposed  on  none  ;  but  rather,  all  inclined 
To  holiness  ;  and  grace  was  bountiful, 
Abundant,  overflowing  with  my  word ; 
My  word  of  life  and  peace,  which  to  all  men, 
'Who  shall  or  stand  or  fall,  by  law  revealed, 
Was  oifered  freely,  as  'twas  freely  sent, 
Without  all  money,  and  without  all  price. 
Thus  they  have  all,  by  willing  act,  despised 
Me,  and  my  Son,  and  sanctifying  Spirit. 
But  now,  no  longer  shall  they  mock  or  scorn. 
The  day  of  grace  and  mercy  is  complete, 
And  Godhead  from  their  misery  absolved. 

So  saying,  He,  the  Father  infinite, 
Turning,  addressed  Messiah,  where  he  sat, 
Exalted  gloriously,  at  his  right  hand. 
This  day  belongs  to  justice  and  to  thee, 
Eternal  Son,  thy  right  for  service  done, 
Abundantly  fulfilling  all  my  will ; 
By  promise  thine,  from  all  eternity, 
Made  in  the  ancient  Covenant  of  Grace ; 
And  thine,  as  most  befitting,  since  in  thee 
Divine  and  human  meet,  impartial  Judge, 
Consulting  thus  the  interest  of  both. 
Go  then,  my  Son,  divine  similitude, 
Image  express  of  Deity  unseen, 


BOOK.  x.  429 

The  book  of  my  remembrance  take;  and  take 

The  golden  crowns  of  life,  due  to  the  saints ; 

And  take  the  seven  last  thunders  ruinous ; 

Thy  armor  take ;  gird  on  thy  sword,  thy  sword 

Of  justice  ultimate,  reserved,  till  now, 

Unsheathed,  in  the  eternal  armory  ; 

And  mount  the  living  chariot  of  God. 

Thou  goest  not  now,  as  once,  to  Calvary, 

To  be  insulted,  buffeted,  and  slain ; 

Thou  goest  not  now,  with  battle  and  the  voice 

Of  war,  as  once  against  the  rebel  hosts. 

Thou  goest  a  Judge,  and  findst  the  guilty  bound ; 

Thou  goest  to  prove,  condemn,  acquit,  reward. 

Not  unaccompanied ;  all  these,  my  saints, 

Go  with  thee,  glorious  retinue,  to  sing 

Thy  tiiumph,  and  participate  thy  joy; 

And  I,  the  Omnipresent,  with  thee  go ; 

And  with  thee  all  the  glory  of  my  throne. 

Thus  said  the  Father ;  and  the  Son  beloved, 
Omnipotent,  Omniscient,  Fellow  God, 
Arose,  resplendent  with  Divinity ; 
And  He  the  book  of  God's  remembrance  took ; 
And  took  the  seven  last  thunders  ruinous  ; 
And  took  th'  crowns  of  life,  due  to  the  saints; 
His  armor  to*  .*. ;  girt  on  his  sword,  his  sword 
Of  justice  ultimate,  reserved,  till  now, 
Unsheathed,  in  the  eternal  armory  ; 
And  up  the  living  chariot  of  God 
Ascended,  signifying  all  complete. 

And  now  the  Trump  of  wondrous  melody, 
By  man  or  angel  never  heard  before, 
Sounded  with  thunder,  and  the  inarch  began* 
Not  swift,  as  cavalcade,  on  battle  bent, 
But,  as  became  procession  of  a  judge, 


0  THE   COURSE   OP  TIME. 

Solemn,  magnificent,  majestic,  slow ; 
Moving  sublime  with  glory  infinite, 
And  numbers  infinite,  and  awful  song, 
They  passed  the  gate  of  heaven,  which  many  a  league^ 
Opened  either  way,  to  let  the  glory  forth 
Of  this  great  march.     And  now,  the  sons  of  men 
Beheld  their  coming,  which,  before,  they  heard ; 
Beheld  the  glorious  countenance  of  God  ! 
All  light  was  swallowed  up,  all  objects  seen 
Faded  ;  and  the  Incarnate,  visible 
Alone,  held  every  eye  upon  him  fixed ; 
The  wicked  saw  his  majesty  severe  ; 
And  those  who  pierced  Him  saw  his  face  with  clouds 
Of  glory  circled  round,  essential  bright  ! 
And  to  the  rocks  and  mountains  called  in  vain, 
To  hide  them  from  the  fierceness  of  his  wrath  ; 
Almighty  power  their  flight  restrained,  and  held 
Them  bound  immovable  before  the  bar. 
t 

The  righteous,  undismayed  and  bold, — best  proof, 
This  day,  of  fortitude  sincere,  -sustained 
By  inward  faith,  with  acclamations  loud, 
Received  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  Man  ? 
And,  drawn  by  love,  inclined  to  his  approach, 
Moving  to  meet  the  brightness  of  his  face. 

Meantime,  'tween  good  and  bad,  the  Judge  his 

wheels 

Stayed,  and,  ascending,  sat  upon  the  great 
White  Throne,  that  morning  founded  there  by  power 
Omnipotent,  and  built  on  righteousness 
And  truth.     Behind,  before,  on  every  side, 
In  native  and  reflected  blaze  of  bright, 
Celestial  equipage,  the  myriads  stood, 
That  with  his  marching  came  ;  rank  above  rank, 
Rank  above  rank,  with  shield  and  flaming  sword. 


43  1 


Twas  silence  all !  and  quick,  on  right  and  left, 
A  mighty  angel  spread  the  book  of  God's 
Remembrance ;  and,  with  conscience  now  sincere 
All  men  compared  the  record,  written  there 
By  finger  of  Omniscience  ;  and  received 
Their  sentence,  in  themselves,  of  joy  or  wo  ; 
Condemned  or  justified,  while  yet  the  Judge 
Waited,  as  if  to  let  them  prove  themselves. 
The  righteous,  in  the  book  of  life  displayed, 
Rejoicing,  read  their  names ;  rejoicing,  read 
Their  faith  for  righteousness  received,  and  deeds 
Of  holiness,  as  proof  of  faith  complete. 
The  wicked,  in  the  book  of  endless  death, 
Spread  out  to  left,  bewailing,  read  their  names  ; 
And  read  beneath  them,  Unbelief,  and  fruit 
Of  unbelief,  vile,  unrepented  deeds, 
Now  unrepentable  for  evermore ; 
And  gave  approval  of  the  wo  affixed. 

This  done,  the  Omnipotent,  Omniscient  Judge 
Rose  infinite,  the  sentence  to  pronounce, 
The  sentence  of  eternal  wo  or  bliss  ! 
All  glory  heretofore  seen  or  conceived, 
All  majesty,  annihilated,  dropped, 
That  moment,  from  remembrance,  and  was  lost 
And  silence,  deepest  hitherto  esteemed, 
Seemed  noisy  to  the  stillness  of  this  hour. 
Comparisons  I  seek  not,  nor  should  find, 
If  sought.     That  silence,  which  all  being  held, 
When  God's  Almighty  Son,  from  off  the  walls 
Of  heaven  the  rebel  angels  threw,  accursed, 
So  still,  that  all  creation  heard  their  fall 
Distinctly,  in  the  lake  of  burning  fire, — 
Was  now  forgotten,  and  every  silence  else. 
All  being  rational,  created  then, 
Around  the  judgment  seat,  intensely  listened. 


432  THE    COURSE    OP    TIMK. 

No  creature  breathed.     Man,  angel,  devil,  stood 
And  listened;    the   spheres   stood   still,    and   eveiy 

star 

Stood  still,  and  listened  ;  and  every  particle. 
Remotest  in  the  womb  of  matter,  stood, 
Bending  to  hear,  devotional  and  still. 
And  thus  upon  the  wicked,  first,  the  Judge 
Pronounced  the  sentence,  written  before  of  old 
"  Depart  from  me,  ye  cursed,  into  the  fire, 
Prepared  eternal  in  the  Gulf  of  Hell, 
Where  ye  shall  weep  and  wail  for  evermore, 
Reaping  the  harvest  which  your  sins  have  sown.*' 

So  saying,  God  grew  dark  with  utter  wrath ; 
And,  drawing  now  the  sword,  undrawn  before, 
"Which  through  the  range  of  infinite,  all  around, 
A  gleam  of  fiery  indignation  threw, 
He  lifted  up  his  hand  omnipotent, 
And  down  among  the  damned  the  burning  edge 
Plunged  ;  and  from  forth  his  arrowy  quiver  sent, 
Emptied,  the  seven  last  thunders  ruinous, 
Which,  entering,  withered  all  their  souls  with  fire. 
Then  first  was  vengeance,  first  was  ruin  seen  ! 
Red,  unrestrained,  vindictive,  final,  fierce  ! 
They,  howling,  fled  to  west  among  the  dark ; 
But  fled  not  these  the  terrors  of  the  Lord. 
Pursued,  and  driven  beyond  the  Gulf,  which  frowns 
Impassable,  between  the  good  and  bad, 
And  downward  far  remote  to  left,  oppressed 
And  scorched  with  the  avenging  fires,  begun 
Burning  within  them, — they  upon  the  verge 
Of  Erebus,  a  moment,  pausing  stood, 
And  saw,  below,  the  unfathomable  lake, 
Tossing  with  tides  of  dark,  tempestuous  wrath ; 
And  would  have  looked  behind  ;  but  greater  wrath, 
Behind,  forbade,  which  now  no  respite  gave 


BOOK.  x.  433 

To  final  misery.     God,  in  the  grasp 

Of  his  Almighty  strength,  took  them  upraised, 

And  threw  them  down,  into  the  yawning  pit 

Of  bottomless  perdition,  ruined,  damned, 

Fast  bound  in  chains  of  darkness  evermore  ; 

And  Second  Death,  and  the  Undying  Worm, 

Opening  their  horrid  jaws,  with  hideous  yell, 

Falling,  received  their  everlasting  prey. 

A  groan  returned,  as  down  they  sunk,  and  sunk, 

And  ever  sunk,  among  the  utter  dark"  ! 

A  groan  returned  !  the  righteous  heard  the  groan, 

The  groan  of  all  the  reprobate,  when  first 

They  felt  damnation  sure !  and  heard  Hell  close  ! 

And  heard  Jehovah  and  his  love  retire  ! 

A  groan  returned  !  the  righteous  heard  the  groan. 

As  if  all  misery,  all  sorrow,  grief, 

All  pain,  all  anguish,  all  despair,  which  all 

Have  suffered,  or  shall  feel,  from  first  to  last 

Eternity,  had  gathered  to  one  pang, 

And  issued  in  one  groan  of  boundless  wo  ! 

And  now  the  wall  of  hell,  the  outer  wall, 
First  gateless  then,  closed  round  them;  that  which 

thou 

Hast  seen,  of  fiery  adamant,  emblazed 
With  hideous  imagery,  above  all  hope, 
Above  all  flight  of  fancy,  burning  high, 
And  guarded  evermore,  by  Justice,  turned 
To  Wrath,  that  hears,  unmoved,  the  endless  grc  v 
Of  those  wasting  within ;  and  sees,  unmoved, 
The  endless  tear  of  vain  repentance  fall. 

Nor  ask  if  these  shall  ever  be  redeemed. 
They  never  shall !     Not  God,  but  their  own  sin, 
Condemns  ihem.    What  could  be  done,  as  thou  hast 
heard, 

37 


434  THE    COURSE   OF   TIME. 

Has  been  already  done ;  all  has  been  tried, 

That  wisdom  infinite,  and  boundless  grace, 

Working  together,  could  devise  ;  and  all 

Has  failed.     VVhy  now  succeed  ?    Though  God  she  uld 

stoop, 

Inviting  still,  and  send  his  Only  Son 
To  offer  grace  in  hell,  the  pride,  that  first 
Refused,  would  still  refuse  ;  the  unbelief, 
Still  unbelieving,  would  deride  and  mock  , 
Nay  more,  refuse,  deride,  and  mock  ;  for  sin 
Increasing  still,  and  growing,  day  and  night, 
Into  the  essence  of  the  soul,  become 
All  sin,  makes  what  in  time  seemed  probable, — 
Seemed  probable,  since  God  invited  them, — 
For  ever  now  impossible.     Thus  they, 
According  to  the  eternal  laws  which  bind 
All  creatures,  bind  the  Uncreated  One, 
Though  we  name  not  the  sentence  of  the  Judge, — 
Must  daily  grow  in  sin  and  punishment, 
Made  by  themselves  their  necessary  lot, 
Unchangeable  to  all  eternity. 

What  lot !  what  choice  !  I  sing  not,  cannot  sing. 
Here,  highest  seraphs  tremble  on  the  lyre, 
And  make  a  sudden  pause  ! — but  thou  hast  seen. 
And  here,  the  bard,  a  moment,  held  his  hand, 
As  one  who  saw  more  of  that  horrid  wo 
Than  words  could  utter ;  and  again  resumed. 

Nor  yet  had  vengeance  done.     The  guilty  Earth,, 
Inanimate,  debased,  and  stained  by  sin, 
Seat  of  rebellion,  of  corruption  long, 
And  tainted  with  mortality  throughout, — 
God  sentenced  next ;  and  sent  the  final  fires 
Of  ruin  forth,  to  burn  and  to  destroy. 
The  saints  its  burning  saw,  and  thou  mayest  see. 


435 


Look  yonder,  round  the  lofty  golden  wails 

And  galleries  of  New  Jerusalem, 

Among  the  imagery  of  wonders  passed; 

Look  near  the  southern  gate;  look,  and  behold — 

On  spacious  canvass,  touched  with  li ving  hues — 

The  Conflagration  of  the  ancient  earth, 

The  handiwork  of  high  archangel,  drawn 

From  memory  of  what  he  saw,  that  day. 

See  !  how  the  mountains,  how  the  valleys  burn 

The  Andes  burn,  the  Alps,  the  Apennines, 

Taurus  and  Atlas ;  all  the  islands  burn  ; 

The  Ocean  burns,  and  rolls  his  waves  of  flame. 

See  how  the  lightnings,  barbed,  red  with  wrath, 

Sent  from  the  quiver  of  Omnipotence, 

Cross  and  recross  the  fiery  gloom,  and  burn 

Into  the  centre  ! — burn  without,  within, 

And  help  the  native  fires,  which  God  awoke, 

And  kindled  with  the  fury  of  his  wrath. 

As  inly  troubled,  now  she  seems  to  shake ; 

The  flames,  dividing,  now,  a  moment,  fall ; 

And  now,  in  one  conglomerated  mass, 

Rising,  they  glow  on  high,  prodigious  blaac  ! 

Then  fall  and  sink  again,  as  if,  within,    ' 

The  fuel,  burned  to  ashes,  was  consumed. 

So  burned  the  Earth  upon  that  dreadful  day, 

Yet  not  to  full  annihilation  burned. 

The  essential  particles  of  dust  remained, 

Purged,  by  the  final,  sanctifying  fires, 

From  all  corruption  ;  from  all  stain  of  sin, 

Done  there  by  man  or  devil,  purified. 

The  essential  particles  remained,  of  which 

God  built  the  world  again,  renewed,  improved, 

With  fertile  vale,  and  wood  of  fertile  bough ; 

And  streams  of  milk  aivd  honey,  flowing  song  ; 

And  mountains  cinctured  with  perpetual  greeu  j 

In  clime  and  season  fruitful,  as  at  first, 


436  THE    COURSE   OF   TIMP,. 

When  Adam  woke,  unfallen,  in  Paradise. 
And  Ood,  from  out  the  fount  of  native  light, 
A  handful  took  of  beams,  and  clad  the  sun 
Again  in  glory ;  and  sent  forth  the  moon 
To  borrow  thence  her  wonted  rays,  and  lead 
Her  stars,  the  virgin  daughters  of  the  sky. 
And  God  revived  the  winds,  revived  the  tides ; 
And,  touching  her  from  his  Almighty  hand, 
With  force  centrifugal,  she  onward  ran, 
Coursing  her  wonted  path,  to  stop  no  more. 
Delightful  scene  of  new  inhabitants  ! 
As  thou,  this  morn,  in  passing  hither,  sawst. 

Thus  done,  the  glorious  Judge,  turning  to  right, 
With  countenance  of  love  unspeakable, 
Beheld  the  righteous,  and  approved  them  thus  : 
*'  Ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  come,  ye  just, 
Enter  the  joy  eternal  of  your  Lord  ; 
Receive  your  crowns,  ascend,  and  sit  with  me, 
At  God's  right  hand,  in  glory  evermore  !  " 

Thus  said  the  Omnipotent,  Incarnate  Goi  ; 
And  waited  not  the  homage  of  the  crowns, 
Already  thrown  before  him ;  nor  the  loud 
Amen  of  universal,  holy  praise  ; 
But  turned  the  living  chariot  of  fire, 
And  swifter  now, — as  joyful  to  declare 
This  day's  proceedings  in  his  Father's  court, 
And  to  present  the  number  of  his  sons 
Before  the  Throne, — ascended  up.  to  heaven, 
And  all  his  saints,  and  all  his  angel  bands, 
As,  glorious,  they  on  high  ascended,  sung 
Glory  to  God  and  to  the  Lamb  ! — they  sung 
Messiah,  fairer  than  the  sons  of  men, 
And  altogether  lovely.     Grace  is  poured 
Into  thy  lips,  above  all  measure  poured; 


BOOK.  x.  437 

And  therefore  God  hath  blessed  thee  evermore. 

Gird,  gird  thy  sword  upon  thy  thigh,  O  thou 

Most  Mighty  !  with  thy  glory  ride  ;  with  aD 

Thy  majesty,  ride  prosperously,  because 

Of  meekness,  truth,  and  righteousness.     Thy  throne, 

O  God,  for  ever  and  for  ever  stands ; 

The  sceptre  of  thy  kingdom  still  is  right ; 

Therefore  hath  God,  thy  God,  anointed  thee 

With  oil  of  gladness  and  perfumes  of  myrrh, 

Out  of  the  ivory  palaces,  above 

Thy  fellows,  crowned  the  Prince  of  endless  peace  ! 

Thus  sung  they  God,  their  Saviour :  and  themselves 
Prepared  complete  to  enter  now,  with  Christ, 
Their  living  Head,  into  the  Holy  Place. 
Behold  !  the  daughter  of  the  King,  the  bride, 
AH  glorious  within,  the  bride  adorned, 
Comely  in  broidery  of  gold  !  behold, 
She  comes,  apparelled  royally,  in  robes 
Of  perfect  righteousness,  lair  as  the  sun, 
With  all  her  virgins,  her  companions  fair, — 
Into  the  Palace  of  the  King  she  comes, 
She  comes  to  dwell  for  evermore  !     Awake, 
Eternal  harps  !  awake,  awake,  and  sing  ! — 
The  Lord,  the  Lord,  our  God  Almighty,  reigns  ! 

Thus  the  Messiah,  with  the  hosts  of  bliss, 
Entered  the  gates  of  heaven,  unqiiestioned  now, 
Which  closed  behind  them,  to  go  out  no  more ; 
And  stood,  accepted,  in  his  Father's  sight; 
Before  the  glorious,  everlasting  Throne, 
Presenting  all  his  saints  ;    not  one  was  lost, 
Of  all  that  he  in  Covenant  received . 
And,  having  given  the  kingdom  up,  he  sat, 
Where  now  he  sits  and  reigns,  on  the  right  hand 
Of  glory  ;    and  our  God  is  all  in  all ! 
37* 


433  THE    COUBSE    OF    TIME. 

Thus  have  I  sung  beyond  thy  first  request, 
Rolling  my  numbers  o'er  the  track  of  man, 
The  world  at  dawn,  at  mid-day,  and  decline ; 
Time  gone,  the  righteous  saved,  the  wicked  damned 
And  God's  eternal  government  approved. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


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NOVT 


LD  21-100m-6,'56 
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This  it  a  most  charming  story,  from  an  author  of  reputation  in  this  department,  both  in  England  and 
America.  The  machinery  of  Fairy  Land  is  employed  with  great  ingenuity  ;  the  style  is  beautiful,  imag 
inative,  yet  simple.  The  frolics  of  Robin  Goodfellow  are  rendered  with  the  utmost  grace  and  spirit. 

TALES  FROM  SHAKSPEARE.    Designed  for  the  Use  of  Young  Persons.    By  CHARLES 

LAMB.   From  tli3  fifth  London  edition,  liimo.  Illustrated.  Price,  bound  in  muslin,  $1.00  ;  gilt,  $1.50. 

These  tales  are  intended  to  interest  children  and  youth  in  some  of  the  plays  of  Shakspeare.    The  form 

of  the  dialogue  is  dropped,  and  instead  the  plots  are  woven  into  stories,  which  are  models  of  beauty. 

What  Hawthorne  has  lately  done  for  t^e  classical  mythology,  Lamb  has  here  done  for  Shakspeare. 

PUBLISHED       BY 

PHILLIPS,     SAMPSON     &     CO.,     Boston, 
And  for  sale  hy  all  Booksellers  in  the  United  States. 


JUVENILE      BOOKS. 


3TIE  HOLLO  BOOKS.  By  R«v.  JACOB  Ai!Bo*J^n  feflrteflV^Dlijr^*/  'New  edition,  -wV.il 
fisw^ry  exec-sited  eKgraviegs  fpMaK»regiffial /?<"="«!•»  by  BLlifiJga.  Price,"|7 ;  fiiffgle,  .50  cents.  Anjr  v/jlume 
sold  separately. 

KOH.  x^*,  to Mk.  ,,.:-:..r..BERKEI-EY  LIBRARIES 

Holla  Learning  to  Read. 
Holis  at  "Work. 
Hollo  at  Piay. 
Hollo  at  Sc&octL 
Hello's  Faeation. 
Hollo's  Experimeatc, 

TL!IM  ts  uafioubiadly  the  mo«t  pop«^RT«ei«( 

is  far  Htore  attractive  exterEally  than  the  one  by  which  the  author  firs:  PCCUIKC  »» un- 

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*rbole,  will  give  to  this  series,  if  possible,  a  still  wider  aad  more  e: 

«,  zasush'c,  $3.:i 


A  PEEP  AT  "NTJMBEH  FIVE;"  or,  a  Chapter  in  the  Life  of  a  City  Pastor.  By 
Hu  TEcerx,  awthor  -of  •"  Siaajty  fiidc."  J^uao.,  LLlKstriAeiL  Twetoty-fi&k  ithousaad.  Priiie,  niusliu, 
50  /MMits  .•  ^ilt,  75  oeiits. 

THE  TELLTALE;  or,  Home  Secrets  tt&ld  by  aid  Travetlera.  By  H.  TBUSXA.  I8mo., 
4Umtrato£.  Frioe,  4*  uelLa,  .£0  oeiits  ;  gik,  75  «emtc. 

;  THE  LAST  LEAP  FROM  SUNNY  SIDE.  By  IT.  TRUSTA.  Wifh  a  Memorial  of  tTie  author 
fey  Kev-  AU«XSK  Ptifiti*.  ficiwatteca'ili  tliousaiid.  Itfieo,  with  A  fiu£  Portrait.  PrLca,musliu,«5i) 
cents  ;  gilt,  ,7,5  «ejits. 

LITTLE  MAHYi  «2r,  Tatke  and  Tales  ft&r  Children.  By  R.  TEU-STA.  Beautifully  printed 
SUE.*  fitaaJy  ilkistrated.  SCrao.  Price,  musliH,  «0  ceats  ;  iEusliiL,  full  .gih",  .*<  cents. 

UNCLE  FRAITK'S  BOYS*  AND  G-IRLS*  LIBRARY.  A  beautiful  Scries,  comprising  six 
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I.  Tfee  Pedler*s  Boy;  or,  nit>e  Sccnefeofly. 

El.  Tiie  Diving  Bell  j  or,  Pearls  to  be  sought  for. 

EIL  TJie  P/aot?  Or^an  Grinder,  acid  .other  Storiee. 

IV.  Loss  an<l  Grain;  or  Susy  Loe^s  Motto. 

V.  Mike  Marble;  Ins  Crotchets  aad  Oddities. 

VL  Tfce  Wondent'ul  Letter  Bag  of  Kit  CurioiiE- 

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(»er  voluaie. 

UNCLE  FHANKJS  PEEP  AT  THE  BIRDS.  With  itwecvty-four  beautiful  characteristic 
eagraviajge.  By  FEJLKCIS  C.  W«ODWOEE:H.  IGeaao.  Price,  «ausJin,oO  cents  ;  ermsun,  gilt,  75  cents. 

UNCLE    FRANK'S    PEEP    AT    THE    ANIMALS.    With  twenty-four  fine  illustrations.    By 
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THE    ANGEL    CHILDREN;    or.  Stories  from  Cloud  Lazid.    By  MB«-  CHARLOTTE  M.  1L 

S  retUJts«.    Prioe,  ijtuslin,  36  ceats  ;  fall  ;gilt,  .75  esKts. 
fe  this  work  the  purest  principles—  love,  genileness,  obedience,  feecievolenoe—  are  iticulcated  IQ  tlie  mos 


Bo0fc«  afecwj  «a««ter*te<J  few*  feut  a  ««aU  part<*f  tlw  p«felirf*er€'  Ilat    Catakgues  sen 
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PHILLIES,      SAMPSON      &      CO.,      Boston, 
An<£  for  wife  fejr  «ii  Bwt'cssliers  ?o  tke  fljiited  State*. 


